Fast Times
by Animalcrunch12
Summary: When a core group of six friends are preparing for their last year of high school at Townsville Academy and their future beyond it, they must deal with the most difficult task they've ever faced―each other. In a year full of drama, heartbreak, betrayal, laughter, tears, romance, and most of all, friendship, these six friends will never be the same. Rated M for language and content.
1. New Kid On Campus

**Hey Everyone.**

 **For some reading this, you'll find this story to be really familiar. That's because I published it last summer but then I deleted it since I was going though a lot of personal issues and also the stress of school, so I felt it was not fair to leave my story unfinished. After a long time debating, I've decided to redo the story. I am re-posting the chapters I posted before, which have quite a few changes. I have fixed some parts of the story, such as dialogue, details, and I also dropped some irrelevant story lines and even deleted one chapter. So there's some fun in re-reading the chapters or to just refresh your memory. However, I do highly recommend re-reading for the changes I made. BTW, everything after chapter six will be new content.**

 **For new readers, I want to provide a couple of details for my story. I decided to have the characters not be related but also for them to have different ethnic backgrounds because I love diversity. So here is the characters' ethnicity.**

 **Blossom- French**

 **Boomer- Native Hawaiian and Swedish**

 **Brick- Scottish**

 **Bubbles- Puerto Rican**

 **Butch- Brazilian**

 **Buttercup- Japanese**

 **With that said, I hope everyone enjoys my story as much as I do. Thank you!**

* * *

As the city bus slowly approached his destination, Brick began to grow anxious. He gazed out the window, growing a little familiar with his new surroundings, to distract himself. Knowing that applying to Townsville Academy was the most intelligent thing he could do since Brick was out-pacing his old school—and knew he would be easily accepted; Brick did not anticipate what moving to the entire opposite coast without knowing a single soul would feel like. However, deep down, he knew he will be fine.

The bus came to a steady stop in front of Townsville Academy. As he exited the public transportation, Brick was glad to be able to stretch his legs. Being stuck in a confined space for a long period of time is one of the few disadvantages of being 6'2" in height.

After adjusting his copper locks under his hat, Brick reluctantly headed straight towards the main office of the campus. He was informed in an email he will be needing to visit there first in order to receive a tour of the campus. Needlessly to say, Brick was not exactly psyched about being treated like a tourist.

During his walk, he took in the appearance of the school. Brick noted the entire campus had a colonial style appeal as some buildings were being swallowed up by ivy leaves. All the academic buildings surrounded a sizable courtyard, where a large, marble fountain was the centerpiece. The landscape included numerous oak trees that lined along the pathways–most were starting to lose their leaves for their habitual autumn routine. Picnic tables laid under every other tree, waiting to be occupied by students. The architecture and greenery reminded him of the aesthetic of an Ivy League school. He smirked to himself, believing this was a sign of him making the right decision. It was obvious this school held itself up to a high standard.

He entered the office–which seemed more like a hotel lobby than anything. Greeted warmly by the secretary, she informed Brick that he will need to have an introduction with the Principal, directing him towards their office.

Upon entering the room, Brick founded the Principal speaking on the phone. They were sitting in an oversized, leather chair with the back of their chair facing Brick. Brick took one step out of office, feeling like he was intruding; however, the Principal stuck out their hand and motioned for Brick to take a seat.

Selecting one of the two chairs in front of the desk, Brick analyzed the room. He discovered there was a overwhelming and thick fruity odor to the small space. The office was painted a bold red with a fluffy, pink carpet for the flooring–Brick found the color selection to be tacky. Pictures covered walls, varying from past school events over the years to personal photos. A shelf hung on the western wall, full of a variety of objects that were types of crustacean. Brick was puzzled by the eclectic choice of collectibles. He noted the plaque on the desk, stating ** _Principal Him_** in bold lettering. He chuckled slightly to himself. What kind of last name was _Him_?

Principal Him spun the chair around, meeting Brick's face for the first time but avoiding eye contact. Brick immediately dropped the grin on his face, appearing stoic to avoid the principal noticing him laughing. Still consumed in the phone conversation, the principal wrote something down furiously. Brick noticed Him's voice echoed throughout the office, even though the principal spoke in a whispery, feminine-like tone.

Him was nothing like Brick would ever imagine. The principal had slick, black hair that was stylized in a ponytail; pink-pigmented skin that seemed to be easily flushed; a face with sharp features and high cheek-bones; a small, almost feminine frame that was extremely noticeable in his slim-fitted, black suit, but seemed to be at least 6 feet tall; a pointy goatee; and weirdly, big sausage fingers that were almost claw-like.

Brick now somewhat understood Him's obsession with crustaceans.

"I told you already! Juvenile behavior will not be accepted and if you do not discipline that little brat, then you will be fired!" Him roared, slamming the phone into the receiver, changing from a feminine tone to a masculine one. The principal's face was burning red all over.

The outburst shocked Brick, but he remained with a poker face, blinking at his principal in acknowledgment. He waited for Him to say something, but instead of apologizing for the erratic behavior, Him closed it's eyes, counting to ten. After those ten seconds passed, Him smoothly smiled at Brick, rapidly changing from red to pink.

"Hello, you must be Brick Adams." Brick nodded slowly, confused by Him's sudden mood change and reversion to a chirper, feminine tone. "Great! It's such a pleasure to meet you. I'm _so_ glad you have decided to transfer to Townsville Academy. In fact, I was reading your file the other day, and may I say, you are a very well fit for this school. I was extremely impressed by your football stats and your entrance exam score. It's actually second best score we ever received. And–Oh my, where are my manners, I forgot to introduce myself," Him straighten it's claw of a hand, initiating a handshake, which Brick accepted, "I'm Principal Him… Now, where was I... Oh yeah, I would just like to address some general rules we have here at TA. First, absolutely no cheating of any kind on your assignments or you'll be dealing with expulsion. Second, you must maintain a minimum GPA of 3.0—which from what I saw in your file, you'll have no problem doing. Third, you are not allowed to enter any of the opposite sex's dorm room. Do you understand?"

Brick nodded again, trying to keep up with Him's rapid pace of speaking. The only things he got from the introduction was Him's name and how glad the principal was to have Brick there.

"Splendid! Here's your schedule, room key, and other information you'll be needing. Mr. Kealoha should be by the front desk–He'll be showing you around today. I hope you have a wonderful day!"

Brick exited the office, approaching the front desk again, looking around for his welcoming committee. There were only three other people in the office: the secretary, a blond male, and a girl with brown hair. The blond and the girl were engaged in a light conversation. The girl was giggling at something the male said. Given that Principal Him said his tour guide will be male, Brick tapped the blond's shoulder, interrupting their conversation.

"Um, you're Kealoha right?" Brick asked, shifting his crimson eyes between the two strangers. The girl shared a smile with him before excusing herself. Brick learned her name was Robin from the blond shouting her a goodbye on her way out of the office. The male then focused his attention to Brick.

He was about an two or three inches shorter than Brick, and also lacking the same definition of muscle as him, but the blond was noticeably lean. His blond hair was almost completely bleached, which Brick could tell was from long sun exposure. The rich bronze tone of his skin greatly constructed with the dark blue hue of his eyes.

Brick was convinced the blond came straight out of a 50's surfer movie.

"Well, that's my last name," he answered. A few seconds his eyes widen. Brick presumed the blond finally processed why he was approaching him. He could already tell his guide was not going to be the brightest. "You must be the new kid?" Brick nodded. The blond grinned widely, "Wassup, man? I'm Boomer."

"Brick."

Boomer nodded with a smile, "I guess we should start the tour," he said with Brick alongside him. "So what do you want to see first?"

"Doesn't matter," Brick shrugged. "Just anything to get out of this office. That principal kind of gives me the creeps," Brick admitted, gesturing towards Him's office.

Boomer to let out a small but loud laugh. "Classic Him. Always freaking us students out."

"Speaking of Him... I just have one question and it might not sound too politically correct—" Boomer blinked at Brick, not understand the problem. Brick sighed, shaking his head. "Nevermind about that, but um… Is Him just a really feminine man or a woman who grew a beard?" Brick asked in all seriousness.

Boomer's ocean-blue eyes widened once again, "Dude… I've been here for three whole years, and I still don't know the answer to that question."

Brick chuckled at the blond's response, as he followed him to the courtyard Brick had previously looked at ten minutes ago. Even though the blond was sort of dense, Brick found himself enjoying his presence.

Boomer escorted him around the exterior of the campus, telling him about the Academy's history. They entered a building, which was called McCracken hall—or as Boomer dubbed it, the "only hall that matters"—full of all the core study classes. The hall was brightly illuminated, making the white tiled floor shine underneath their feet—Brick could practically see his reflection in the tiles. Walls were covered in lockers sequencing in turquoise and cherry red—matching the school colors—and flyers for clubs and sports for students to join in the new school year.

As Boomer decided to turn around to show Brick the gymnasium, the bell rang and the hallway flooded with students. He navigated Brick though the swarm of classmates, waving and smiling occasionally at some. They were about to leave the hall when Boomer saw a glimpse of strawberry blonde hair from the corner of his eye. He turned to Brick, and mumbled, "I should probably introduce you to…"

Brick did not quite catch the individual's name since Boomer was leading him through the chaotic hall. Boomer brought him to a female's locker as she was too busy searching in her locker to notice them growing closer.

"Yo Blossom, I want you to meet the new kid." Blossom quickly turned her head to address the boys, looking up and softly smiling at the two. "His name is Brick Adams," Boomer said, pointing to Brick's chest, causing Brick to give him a puzzled look. Boomer ignored him, shifting the attention to Blossom, "And this is our class president, head cheerleader, dance team captain, and quite possibly, our valedictorian—The one and the only, Blossom Blanchette."

"Well aren't you an overachiever?" Brick quipped, crossing his arms, cocking his eyebrow with a smirk, taking in her appearance.

She was at least a foot shorter than him but had the presence and confidence that made their height difference barely noticeable. Her skin seemed like flawless porcelain, brightly contrasting with her light orange hair that could be passable as bronzey blonde shade—which was stylized in a high ponytail with side bangs. With plump lips, rosy cheeks, and watermelon pink eyes, she had a delicate appearance. She had an incredibly well-toned body, especially in her legs—which she was showing off with a pair of high-waisted, black shorts.

"I hate to break it to you, but this school was solely created for overachievers. Mediocrity isn't going get you very far here," Blossom said smoothly, shrugging her shoulder. Brick's eyebrows furrowed in response. An awkward silence fell between the trio, with Boomer darting his eyes back and forth. Blossom broke the tension, putting her hand out and displaying a professional smile, "Anyways, it's nice to meet you, Brick." Brick met her hand, shaking it, and both returning their hands to their sides quickly, "I'll have to get to know you better later—I have to get to my French class right now."

She took a step forward, leaving at least two inches between her and Brick. "But first, as Class President, I should inform you, you are breaking dress code with that hat of your's." Brick glared at her as she poked his hat, pushing it back a little. He tried to resist the urge to fix it but immediately did so. Blossom let out a small chuckle, stepping back, "You're lucky it's your first day... I'll let it slide. _This time only, " s_ he promised with a grin, walking past the two boys. "But Boomer, I might consider taking you off the welcome committee if you can't enforce the rules," she joked from the down the hall.

"Well, she was… Interesting." Brick said, not really sure on what else to say. He really wanted to say that she was kind of a bitch, but that would not be entirely appropriate.

"Practically everyone says that about Blossom when they met her. She seems intimidating at first, but once you get to know her, she's actually pretty cool… Well, that is if she likes you, which I'm sure she will," Boomer rambled, walking Brick to the Gym.

* * *

"So… do you like the campus?" Boomer asked, leading Brick through the lunch line, deciding between getting an apple or an orange. He shrugged his shoulders and took both, grinning at his decision.

"Bigger than I thought." Brick said, exiting the line.

"That's usually what all the new kids say–granted, we've only had three new kids over the past three years, you being the third–"

"Yo Boom, who's the fucking ginger?" A dark-haired male shouted across the courtyard, earning him a lot of stares. He caught up with them, joining them in finding a picnic table.

He was two inches taller than Brick, staring down his emerald green eyes at everyone. His curly, dark hair was gelled messily—making it look like he had just got out of bed, but not in a sloppy way. Every part of his body was well -toned, giving him a statue-esque physique. He had a deep tan complexion—which Brick could tell was from his natural ethnic background and not long sun exposure like Boomer's.

"Butch, this is Brick. He just transferred," Boomer informed, taking a step back to let the two interact. "He used to play varsity football at his old school," he added, knowing it would capture Butch's interest.

Butch grinned with approval, "Varsity, Huh? What position?"

"Wide Receiver."

"Were you any good?"

Brick snorted, "I scored at least one touchdown per game. I went for almost twelve hundred yards last season. I also played cornerback a few time because of injuries–in which, I had five interceptions."

Butch raised an eyebrow, "Did–"

"And yes, we won two championships," Brick boasted with a smug grin.

"Impressive. You're joining our team then, right?"

"Well-"

"It's going to be great to finally have someone who can catch a fucking ball for once," Butch continued, cutting Brick off.

"Yeah, totally…" Brick mumbled, wanting to avoid the subject. He enjoyed bragging about his old glories, but not his future in the sport. He was not sure if he still wanted to play. Luckily, they were called by three girls to come to their table, distracting Butch from carrying on the conversation—much to Brick's relief.

One of the girls was Blossom. The other two was a tall, skinny girl with short black hair who appeared to be of Asian descent, and the other was short and curvy girl with curly, dirty blonde hair. The blonde instantly ran over to Boomer, kissing him. Brick noted that she obviously must be the girlfriend that Boomer spoke variously about during his tour.

At the table, Boomer sat next to his girlfriend. While Butch sat across from Blossom–who was next to the blondes, forcing Brick to sit in between Butch and the dark-haired girl.

"So this is my lovely girlfriend Bubbles," Boomer said, kissing her cheek. "And that's Buttercup."

"Hi, it's very nice to meet." Bubbles greeted sweetly.

"Yeah, totally," Buttercup mumbled sarcastically.

"Buttercup and Bubbles? That's really your names?" Brick chuckled in disbelief. Blossom and Boomer were already ridiculous names to begin with—however Brick did know of some other individuals with those names—but Buttercup and Bubbles? That was starting to push it a little.

"Yes and no... Bubbles is a nickname that Butch gave me freshmen year–"

"It's because she has a bubbly personality," Butch said, stuffing his mouth with fries. The entire table cringed a little at the sight of the half-chewed food in his mouth that showed when he spoke.

Bubbles giggled, which sounded childlike to Brick. "My real name is Olivia, but everyone calls me Bubbles. I prefer it more too." She took a sip of her soda before continuing, "Blossom and Boomer are nicknames too."

"Yeah, and it will also haunt you for your entire high school career," Blossom said, rolling her eyes. "You know, I'm named after my grandmother, Rosemarie, but now I share the same name as a 90's sitcom character."

"Hey! I gave you that name because you're as beautiful as a flower, not because–whoever the hell you're referencing," Butch said defensively.

"Don't try to suck up now, Butch."

"Why not? It's gotten me this far and you're still dating me. So I'm going to keep it up."

Blossom rolled her eyes again, but with a playful smile this time, "You just love making me miserable, don't you?"

"It's what I look forward to every day."

Brick raised an eyebrow at the two. So there were two couples within the group. Brick turned to the dark-haired girl next to him, narrowing his eyes at her. Was this a subtle way from the others telling him to date her? Brick was not really into the idea. He could already tell Buttercup would not be his type. And―

"Do you have a fucking problem?" Buttercup growled at Brick.

His eyes widen, not realizing he was still staring. He put his hands up defensively, "No. No. No, not at all–I was… um, was wondering if Buttercup was your real name?" Brick babbled, impressed by his sort of quick thinking.

"Yes," Buttercup seethed. "It's the translation of my actual name, which means Buttercup. Sadly, my parents weren't in the right state of mind when they were naming me," she finished snarkily as she moved a piece of hair out of her eyes. Her voice had a certain throaty grit to it that made her sound angry whenever she spoke.

"What's your real name?"

"Kinpōge."

"What language is that?"

"Japanese."

"While we're on the topic of our names and nicknames. Can I ask why Boomer is _Boomer_?" Blossom interjected, adruptly ending the individual conversation between Brick and Buttercup as they both turned their full attention to the redhead's question.

"Yeah, it's been three years and we still don't know why," Buttercup chimed.

Butch shrugged his shoulders, "He reminded me of a boomerang when I spent all of freshmen year trying to get rid of him, but he never left. Boomerang was too long, so I shorten it. Thus, Boomer was born."

"Wow... I never knew that," Boomer said, grinning ear to ear. "My mind has been completely blown."

"Um, did you hear the part about him wanting to get rid of you? Because I did and that's fucking rude, Butch," Buttercup challenged. Brick felt the same way as the girl, but did not feel like it was his place to say anything—he did only know these people for less than three hours now.

"Trust me, Buttercup. You do not want to start something," Butch said venomously, shooting her daggers.

"Butters, it's fine. I know I can be too much sometimes. It's all cool. So we can chill, alright?"

"Yeah. Chill out," Blossom said coldly to Butch and Buttercup, staring at them like an angry mom. They both followed her order, shutting their mouths and slumping in the bench more to avoid eye contact with each other.

"So um, what's Boomer's real name then?" Brick asked to cut the tension.

"Oh, it's not that exciting. It's–"

Before Boomer could answer, an all too familiar feminine voice rang through the PA.

" _Attention students. I would like to say I am very excited for the new school year and I know this will be the very best one yet. I can't wait for the memories we will make this year and the progress you'll make... I would also like to inform you that your lunch period is now over."_

Everyone in the courtyard stared confusedly each other.

"I thought lunch wasn't over for another ten minutes?" Bubbles asked innocently.

As if Principal Him heard her question personally, the principal came back on the PA, but this time, more aggressively and manly.

" _ **That means get to class!**_ "

As if a building was on fire, everyone in the courtyard rushed to their feet and practically ran in the various directions of their next class, sending the newly formed group of six in separate directions.

* * *

The group was reunited by the seventh class of the day, which they all shared together. The class being Creative Writing with Ms. Keane–a class requirement for seniors.

The upperclassmen were excited for this class period primarily because of Ms. Keane. She had been their English teacher last year before she decided to change her curriculum so she could teach them again. To some students, she was like a mentor or a mother-figure.

Her class lined up outside of her classroom, waiting for their teacher to come back from her lunch break. To pass the time, Bubbles and Boomer shared a set of earbuds. They sang silently, in sync, to whatever song they were listening to. Buttercup did the same, nodding her head to the beat of her own music. Butch was telling Blossom a story about an event that happened over the summer. From the face that Blossom was making, she was either not interested in what he was saying or disapproved of whatever it was. Then there was Brick, who felt like a fly on the wall.

He stood between all of them, not really sure where he belonged or what to do. At his old school, he was the main attraction. He was what Butch is here but now, he was the new kid. The person everyone wanted to get to know, yet neglected to do because they do not care enough to do so. The thought of spending his senior year practically alone freaked the hell out of him. There was only one thing he could do, and that was to turn up the charm and befriend someone.

He looked at his classmates, trying to find someone that was unoccupied. He only found two, Buttercup and a short, red-headed boy. From his appearance–wide glasses, sweater vest with a pocket protector, pressed khakis, and sketchers that Brick swears light up–and the fact he was reading an encyclopedia, Brick could tell he was the "school nerd". Which meant, even if he was a nice person, Brick could not associate himself with the short ginger or that would be social suicide.

Brick looked at Buttercup. He was deciding on whether to approach her. As if she already knew what he was thinking about it, she sent him a cold stare, slowly shaking her head. This left Brick with one option: the ginger.

Brick sighed deeply, telling himself to forget about the social hierarchy and just be nice. He walked up to the redhead–who was almost a foot shorter than him–and tapped on his shoulder. The boy did not dare to look up from his book.

"Yes, what is it? Is Ms. Keane finally back?" the redhead asked. He had a slight lisp when he spoke.

"Hey, I'm Brick Adams. I just transferred–"

"Transferred?" The short boy gasped, quickly shutting his book and shoving it into his backpack. He readjusted his glasses and then narrowed his eyes at Brick. "No one told me about a transfer student. Tell me, what qualified you to _even_ step foot on this campus? What is your grade point average? Extracurricular activities? Entrance exam score?" he quizzed rapidly.

"Um…" Brick was caught off guard by the questions. He felt like he was being interrogated. A part of him wanted to walk away and try again later with someone else, but as he looked around at the rest of class–who were giving him strange looks because he was talking to the red-head–he decided to try now. They both needed this. Brick cleared his throat and answered his questions, "I have a 3.9 GPA unweighted and 4.7 weighted–"

"I guess that's decent enough. Most of the neanderthals here can only amount to a 3.2. Although it is not as impressive as my 4.0 unweighted and 5.1 weighted," the redhead interrupted, nodding his head.

"I played varsity football–"

"Ugh, sports. You already lost me. You're just going to be another Butch," redhead dismissed, turning his shoulder away from Brick and waving his hand to shooing him away.

Brick wanted to say a lot of things he knew would instantly make the redhead cry but he had to control his frustration. Taking a lesson from Principal Him, Brick closed his eyes and counted to ten. Like he said to himself before, they both needed this. Taking a couple more deep breaths, he continued.

"Then I guess you'll never know my entrance exam score," Brick taunted, knowing the redhead would take the bait.

The short boy slowly turned his head, sighing. "Fine, I could use a good laugh anyways. I don't expect much from you jocks anyways."

"Well... I got a 982. According to Him, it's the second best score they've ever received," Brick said nonchalantly.

The redhead stared at Brick with his mouth agape. "But… But… That's… Impossible… I cannot believe _you_ did better than _me_. A dumb jock did better than me," he said to himself in disbelief. The redhead stood there in shock for a few more seconds before composing himself and extending his hand to Brick, which Brick accepted. "Somehow, in someway, you did better than me. A task that only one other at this school could ever do. Because of that, I will wholeheartedly respect you from now on. _Congratulations_ "

"Thanks," Brick accepted cautiously.

"I'm Dexter. Dexter O'Reilly."

"Well Dexter O'Reilly, you can consider this dumb jock to be a friend of your's, got it?"

"I don't need friends," he responded but the small, thankful smile on his face said otherwise. "But… That was a pleasant gesture," Dexter mumbled.

Brick wanted to continue the conversation, but someone shouted about Ms. Keane's arrival. Dexter promptly ran to the door to make sure he was the first one to be seated, leaving Brick alone again.

The class lined up against the wall as Ms. Keane took roll and assigned a seat to each student.

"Come on Keane, you're not really going to giving us a seating chart. We're seniors, not kindergartners," Butch complained, crossing his arms in protest when it was his turn. His stance reminded Brick of a toddler throwing a fit over not getting the toy they wanted.

"Mr. Santos, if you want me to be honest, I made this chart because of you. Unfortunately, after your antics with Mr. Ramirez and Mr. Mitchelson last year that really cut into my class time so much, I was unable to go over Macbeth, House of Mirth–"

"What a fucking tragedy," Butch quipped, which Ms. Keane ignored.

"–Which was a big part of your final exam. And if I do remember correctly, you almost failed."

"Ms. Keane! That's private information," he whispered harshly at her.

Keane raised an eyebrow, "If that's not enough to reason with you, I'm sure your classmates don't want to go through another year of you constantly trying to impress Miss. Blanchette."

"You tell him, Ms. Keane!" Buttercup shouted from the back of the line. Butch sent her a nasty look that she responded with a smug grin.

"But–"

"Butch, just go sit down already," Blossom said sternly. Her cheeks had a slight burst of red from Ms. Keane's previous comment. Butch sighed in defeat, asking what his seat was again. Before he went, Blossom grabbed his shoulder and pulling him down for a quick kiss. "Stop getting worked up over the little things, okay?" she whispered in his ear, causing him to nodded with a small smile.

Within a few minutes, there was only one more desk that was not filled, and that was Brick's, who stood at the back of the line the whole time.

"You must be the new student." Brick nodded. "Well it's a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Adams," she said, staring down at her clipboard. "Now let me see… Alright, you're seated by the window, right behind Miss. Blanchette and in front of Mr. Ramirez."

Brick thanked her and walked over to his seat. He could tell no one favored their seating arrangement. Butch sat right in front of Ms. Keane's desk. Buttercup seat right next to him. The two sent dirty looks to each other whenever the other was not looking. Next to Buttercup was Dexter, who was reading his encyclopedia again. Boomer and Bubbles were on the opposite sides of the classroom from each other, but they each had a friend nearby. A tall, blonde named Dee Dee on Bubbles' side and a brown-haired, freckled boy named Mitch on Boomer's. Blossom stared blankly out the window, ignoring the conversation from the girl in front of her—who Brick recognized as Robin from earlier that morning. The guy behind Brick, wore a pair of sunglasses to hide the fact that he already had fallen asleep. Brick chuckled at the sight, slumping in his seat, waiting for the school day to end.

* * *

The school day had ended, and Brick planned to settle into his dorm. The papers he was given in the morning did not state who his roommate would be. Only informing him that his room was in Kenny Hall and the dorm number was 112.

Boomer told him on his tour that he will be staying in the same hall, which eased Brick's comfort level. He just hoped he would not have a jackass of a roommate.

When he found the room, Brick was not sure whether he was supposed to knock or just open the door with his key.

"Ah fuck it," Brick mumbled to himself, shoving the key into the slot and turning it. Upon entering the room, he found his roommate was not there yet.

He gazed around the room, trying to grasp the concept of how this 15x15 foot room was going to be his new home for the next year. They luckily had a bathroom installed in their room, which was on Brick's will-be-side of the room. The closet they had to share was on his roommate's side. A pile of dirty clothes laid next to closet—Brick figured it could rival Mount Everest in height. His roommate did not bother making his bed in the morning, leaving the sheets in a wrinkled mess. A collection of sports equipment hung in a bag on the door, so Brick knew his roommate was an athlete of some kind. The room came with two desks and from the look of it, his roommate neglected to use his'. A bible and picture frame were the only things that adorned the vacant desk.

Brick picked up the frame out of curiosity, examining the photo. He expected some kind of family photo but instead, it was of his roommate and his girlfriend. He had his arms wrapped around her waist, while she grabbed onto his muscular arms. Lovingly smiles were plastered on their faces, too busy looking at each other to look at the camera. The photo was taken with a dull filter, but the girl's bright orange hair still stood out just like it did earlier that day.

The doorknob began to jingling, alerting Brick to put the photo back on the desk. He rushed over to his desk chair, trying to appear like he had been sitting there the whole time.

"What the fuck?" Butch shouted when entering the room, throwing his key at Brick's head, but missing by an inch thanks to Brick's quick reflexes. He then clutched his chest, staring at Brick with a wide set of eyes. "Jesus fucking Christ man! You scared the shit out of me! What are you doing in my room? Wait, let me rephrase that. How the fuck did you get in here?"

Brick chuckled, jingling his own room key, "Apparently, I'm your new roommate."

"Roommate?" Butch exclaimed, "Nothing against you bro, but no one told me about a fucking roommate. God, I fucking hate Him. Never tells us anything–Fuck man, this means I can't have Blossom sleepover now. This totally fucking blows," Butch pouted. Brick arched an eyebrow, crossing his arms. Butch smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, "I'm making you feel un-welcomed, aren't I?"

"Just a tiny bit," Brick said sarcastically, holding up his fingers to displaying the small space between them.

"Yeah… Sorry, bro. Still working on the whole talking without a filter thing."

"It's cool."

"Alright," Butch nodded. "Well… Want me to give you a tour of our room?"

"I think I've already seen everything there is to see," Brick chuckled.

Butch grinned, opening the bathroom door, "Just saying, you're missing out on one hell of a tour... I'm taking shower. If you have to piss, Boomer's room is across the hall," he said, locking himself in the bathroom.

While Butch was in the shower, Brick took the time to set up his side of the room. He did not bring much with him, considering Brick did not have much to begin with. He only brought his favorite pillow, a month and a half worth of clothes, his red hat and watch, sports equipment, and a of couple pictures of him and his mom.

As he hung the last photo, the room began to feel slightly like home. He sighed contently as sunk into his twin-sized bed, closing his eyes for a few minutes.

In what he thought was only a couple of minutes was actually three hours, as he was awoken by Butch, harshly, throwing a dirty shirt at him.

"What the fuck, man?" he shouted, throwing the shirt back at him.

"Just trying to wake you up, which it totally worked," Butch said innocently, catching the shirt and throwing it back into his laundry mountain. "Anyways, there's a "get together" tonight and I was wondering if you wanted to go."

"I'll pass," Brick replied, turning his hat frontwards and lowering it to cover his eyes. He was exhausted from the day and starting to feel his jet-lag coming back.

"Come on, bro," Butch said, pulling his hat off. Brick glared at him, snatching out it of his hand. "This is a good chance for you to get to know everyone. Make some friends. Maybe even make some _lady_ _friends_." Butch wiggled his eyebrows causing Brick to roll his eyes while he fixed his hair to put his hat back on. Butch frowned at him, "Fine. If you don't fucking want to go, then don't."

Brick sighed deeply, discovering Butch was one of those people would not let it go if he did not go. "Alright, fine. I'll go."

Butch grinned, "Great. Now go take a fucking shower and get dressed. We're leaving in 15."

* * *

The "get together" was on campus in an abandoned building. Butch said it used to be for the Agricultural program before Him shut down it. Now the building was vacant during the day and the only place students could hang out together after hours.

Butch also claimed it was one of the best places to hook up, but Brick ignored that part.

From the outside, it appeared like no one had stepped foot in the building in years; however, the inside told a different story. There was a least a hundred people in there. A dance floor was located in the center as the speakers blasted an old but popular _Rihanna_ song. In one corner, an intense beer pong competition was underway. In the other, a group circled to pass a couple of joints around. In between all of that, friends socialized, couples mysteriously disappeared, and Brick stood solemnly, drinking a beer while leaning against a wall, wondering why the fuck he agreed to come.

"Not your kind of scene, huh?" a female's voice asked, joining him by the wall.

"Nah. I would have been all over this shit back home. It's just I don't really know anyone here. It's kind of…"

"Uncomfortable?

He nodded, taking a sip of his beer. He turned his head to take in her appearance. She was wearing more makeup than earlier that day, exaggerating her features more, making her appear a least five years older but in a good way. The black dress she was wearing deeply contrasted with her milky, white skin. Her strawberry blonde hair was down, allowing the flowy strands to reach her waist.

Brick must have looked at her a little too long because she raised an eyebrow at him.

"What? Do have something in my hair?" she asked, furiously combing through her hair.

"What? No… No, you're fine," Brick said, taking another sip to hide the hint of red on his cheeks.

"Then why were you looking at me like that?" she questioned suspiciously, crossing her arms.

"I just… didn't expect this to be your kind of scene. Doesn't exactly fit the whole Valedictorian stereotype," he responded smoothly.

Blossom rolled her eyes, "It really isn't, but I have to keep up my social appearances for everyone here. I really only enjoy the dancing and Butch… Most of the time at least."

Brick chuckled, "Where is Butch anyways? I lost him when we got here."

"Try to defend his beer pong title. Going 41 games strong."

"Aren't you a cheerleader? Shouldn't you be cheering him on?"

"Can't. He says I'm too distracting."

"He sure is charming, isn't he?" he quipped, taking a sip.

She laughed at his comment, sighing fondly, "Luckily for me, he is."

"Well then, I just have a question to ask," he said, speaking into an invisible microphone. "How does it feel to be dating a beer pong legend?"

Blossom laughed again, "Pretty great, I guess... Except for when he wants to make out after downing twelve drinks. All I can say, beer breathe is _so_ not sexy."

"Oh God, that's terrible," Brick said, letting out a laugh.

"Trust me. You _do not_ want to know."

"I've probably been there. More likely, I was Butch though," he grinned sheepishly.

"Well, now you have no right to laugh. You've probably traumatized some poor girls in…"

"Boston," he finished.

"Well, you've probably traumatized some poor girls in Boston just like I have been." He laughed again causing her to playful hit his arm, "It's not funny. It's a serious epidemic."

"Maybe you should ban beer pong. Then that could solve your little problem, Miss Class President," Brick joked. Blossom opened her mouth to reply, but quickly closed it. She stared at him thoughtfully. Brick raised an eyebrow and started laughing. "Oh my god! Are you seriously considering it? Aren't you?"

"Shut up... Maybe, I am," she said with a smile, hitting his arm again.

"Easy there, you might bruise me with these super-strength hits."

She rolled her eyes playful, "Come on, you're a tough guy. You'll be fine."

"How do know I'm a tough guy? I could be as delicate as a flower, you know."

" _Please_ ," Blossom said, extending the "s" sound. "Butch told me about your football career. That's a rough game to play. Plus, you have really muscular arms–"

"Oh, I do now? Have you been checking out my arms since I got here," he interrupted, grinned smugly and flexing his arms.

Her face turned a bright red, prompting her to cover some of it with her hair, "No! It's just an observation."

"Okay, whatever you say _Blossom_." He took one last sip of his beer.

A brief silence fell between them as they watched the group on the dance floor. _Kanye West_ filled the speakers, rapping about having sex with _Taylor Swift_.

Blossom pushed back her hair, allowing her to take in his appearance. He was still wearing that god-awful red hat with a few strands of his short, copper hair peeking out―she wondered what he looked like without the hat. His jaw was sharply defined as was everything else about his body. The main feature which made him stand out, however, was crimson-colored eyes, captivating anyone who stared into them. He also dressed casually, in a plain white t-shirt and slim black jeans.

Without noticing, Blossom had moved a couple inches closer to him. Her shoulder brushing up against his arm, but neither said anything about it.

"...So," Blossom said, easing the tension and biting her bottom lip, "How are you liking TA?"

"It's a lot different than my old school. Way bigger and… I guess I'm not sure if I necessary like it here yet. Haven't fully adjusted."

Blossom nodded as if she understood, "It also doesn't help that you don't really know anyone," she recalled from their conversation earlier.

"Yeah…"

"If it's anything, Boomer really likes you already. And Bubbles loves anyone—as long as you don't abuse animals. Plus, Butch says the team is super excited about the idea of having you playing with them. And he is kinda happy about the roommate arrangement… That is until he gets extremely horny, but I'll make sure that doesn't happen."

He chuckled dryly, "Did Buttercup say anything?"

"Buttercup doesn't really like anyone except for me and Bubbles―but mostly me."

"Makes sense."

"Trust me, you're going to do fine here," Blossom said, twirling her finger in her hair. "A bunch of girls were going crazy about you in the halls today too."

Brick let out a small chuckle, smiling devilishly, "That's good to know."

"And I think Dexter will come around eventually—"

"Wait. How do you know about that?" he asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes at her.

Blossom sighed, "I didn't really care for Butch's story about him stealing crab legs–"

"Were they cooked?" Brick interrupted in curiously.

"No!"

"Then what's the fucking point?"

"I know! I said the exact same thing—except without the explicit. He's too ridiculous sometimes," she muttered, shaking her head and then flipping her hair. "Anyways, I started to tune him out and tuned into your conversation with Dexter. It was quite amusing."

"Yeah… He's an interesting character."

"He definitely is."

Brick nodded, "So from what you're telling me, everyone pretty much likes me already?"

Blossom shrugged nonchalantly, "What can I say, we're pretty accepting here."

"...And what do you think?" he asked, staring down at her.

Blossom tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, looking up to meet his eyes. She always hated how guys were always taller than her.

"Despite breaking the dress code… you're pretty decent."

Brick rolled his eyes, smiling, "Thanks."

He was starting to change his opinion on her too. Boomer was right. Blossom was better after the first interaction. No longer did he find her to be bitchy. Brick believed she was pretty decent too.

"No problem. I also think you're way better than the last new kid. By far–"

"My, my, Blossom. It's not kind to talk about people behind their backs," a tall, lanky guy said coming out of nowhere and lowering his shades to look her in the eyes. He had greasy, long black hair and a face full of acne scars. Brick recognized him as the guy who fell asleep in Ms. Keane's class.

"I'm sorry, Ace. Do you want me to tell it to your face?" she asked with venom dripping in each word.

Ace raised an eyebrow, shifting his gaze between the two, noticing the lack of distance they had from one another. He definitely felt like he had interrupted something, "Who's your new friend?" he asked. Brick noticed he had a heavy Brooklyn accent.

"I'm Brick Adams. I sit in front of you in Ms. Keane's class"

"Huh... Alejandro Ramirez, but you can call me Ace. I'm one of Butch's very _close_ friends," he said, staring directly at Blossom.

Blossom glared at him so harshly, it almost appeared like she was going to murder him. "Leave. _Now."_

Ace rolled his eyes, "Why would I do that, chica? I'm interested in what's going on here."

"What's going on here, is me and Brick are having a friendly conversation. Brick, who happens to be Butch's new roommate and will be joining the football team. And I'm sure Butch would not be happy to hear that you're harassing his girlfriend that he loves so dearly. Am I right, _chico?"_ she challenged. Blossom was trying to prevent Ace from telling Butch about anything he saw if there was anything to talk about. Butch was not easy to handle when he was angry, especially when dealing with any type of his jealous rage. Even though she knew it was wrong and there was nothing to hide, Blossom knew Ace had a way with manipulating a situation.

Ace glared at her, not wanting to admit defeat, but had to this time. "I need another beer," he mumbled, turning on his heel and walking away.

"What the fuck was that?" Brick asked, staring at her curiously.

Blossom sighed deeply, frowning, "It doesn't matter." She glanced at the dance floor as the latest _Drake_ song began to play. Blossom immediately smiled, grabbing Brick wrist. "Dance with me," she said, dragging him to the dance floor without his consent.

"Um… I'm not much of a dancer. At least not until I have a few more beers in me," Brick said, having to shout over the loud music. He stood awkwardly, surrounded by people dancing. Some were elbowing him on accident.

"Well you're in luck because I'm the best dancer here," Blossom replied, swinging her hips to the beat. "Just follow my lead."

And that's exactly what he did.


	2. Love is a Practice-Field

If a person were to ask Blossom what was one of her biggest peeves, an immediate top five answer of her's would be someone not seeing cheerleading as a sport. It was a topic she has endlessly argued—especially after becoming co-head cheerleader with Bubbles. This topic, also, was one that she has constantly argued with her own boyfriend, which was what they were doing at the very moment.

"Look, Butch. I don't care about the football team needing a new place to practice. You guys already have a whole field to yourself. Practice there," Blossom argued, opening her locker and grabbing her calculus textbook.

"But babe, you don't understand. We can't practice there anymore or we'll ruin the grass," Butch explained, giving her puppy-dog eyes. "And fucking Him cut spending for the team, so we can't really risk that."

"Oh boohoo," Blossom mocked, slamming her locker door. She glared at him, poking his chest, "You know I had to fight Him and the administration to give the cheerleaders somewhere to practice. And you're not taking that away from us—Not a chance," she swore, walking away from her boyfriend.

"Babe? Babe! Come on!" Butch shouted, running up to her side. "Come on, Babe. Cheerleading is not even a sport–"

"Don't even go there, Butch," she seethed.

He rolled his eyes, "Fine, whatever. Sorry—All I'm saying, is that the football team has more potential to bring the school more profits. Especially if have a winning season—" Blossom snorted. The football team has not had a winning season since the late 80s, and there were no signs of them improving. Butch ignored her, continuing, "And if we have a space to practice and improve, we can raise our chances of finally having one—Plus, Brick just transferred and the team was watching his footage the other day, the guy is total fire. With him on the team and a space to practice, we'll be fucking unstoppable."

Blossom stepped in front of him, stopping both of them, her eyebrows furrowing in anger and arms crossed, "What makes you so sure he'll be joining the team? Huh? Didn't tryouts begin last Wednesday? Right? And let me ask, who was a no-show and still is?" Butch opened his mouth but quickly closed it. Blossom grinned smugly, "That's what I thought. While you live in your own little fantasy, the cheer team will be enjoying our well-deserved practice field."

She quickly turned on her heel, strutting away from him. Butch watched her, feeling defeated by their conversation.

She was right though. Every day at practice, he waited for Brick to show up but he never does. It would lead to a sinking feeling for Butch and the rest of team as they all commonly believed that having Brick on the team would push them to improve their abilities. The thought of having Brick playing for them motivated Butch; hell, it motivated the entire team. Yet, they were all confused on why he has not tried out. Butch has pushed him for the last three days to do so now, whenever he came back from practice, but Brick managed to just ignore him or change the conversation completely. Butch definitely wanted to know what the redhead's deal was. But first, he needed to deal with the cheer team, even if it meant pissing off his girlfriend even more.

* * *

Brick had a difficult decision to make. He felt like he was making the hardest decision of his life. One that could benefit himself now, but could be terrible in the aftermath or one that could completely change him, and maybe for the worst; all he knew, he had a decision to make.

"Um, Brick?" Blossom asked, giving him a strange look, "Why are staring at the burritos like they're a _Picasso_ painting?"

"You would use that analogy," he mumbled, staring at the Mexican dish, holding up the lunch line. A couple of people were starting to complain, "To answer your question, I'm not entirely sure if I want to risk the effects of eating one those–" he pointed at the burrito, "–but I'm extremely hungry and the only other option is a tofu burger—And who the fuck likes tofu, anyway?"

"Oh, I don't know. Bubbles, Boomer, me-"

"Okay whatever, you hippies," he quipped, finally deciding to take the burrito. "You just _love_ to prove me wrong, don't you?"

"Yes. Yes, I do," she grinned, grabbing the tofu burger and trailing behind him in the lunch line.

In the one week Brick has been at Townsville Academy, he has learned five things.

The first thing he learned: twin beds are not fun to sleep in. _Period_.

The second thing he learned: Dexter did need a friend. The two shared the same history class, where Brick was the only one who Dexter spoke to. In the class, Brick noticed how harshly Dexter was treated by their peers—Brick would give dirty looks to anyone who did so, which usually shut them up. He also took interest in how Dexter would ask the most trivial questions, much to the annoyance of their classmate; but Brick grew fawn of his curiosity, even though it would occasionally annoy him too.

The third thing he learned: Boomer and Bubbles were total relationship goals. Brick has never put much thought into soulmates or could even admit if he believed in the idea, but if he did, he would use blonde duo as an example.

The fourth thing he learned: _never_ mess with Buttercup. He witnessed her verbally massacre a poor, nameless freshmen for stepping on the backs of the dark-haired girl's new shoes. She never took a second to breathe as the freshmen was on the verge of tears. Buttercup did apologize afterward once Blossom calmed her down.

The fifth thing he learned: Blossom _always_ had to be right, even when she was wrong. A characteristic that he noticed in the Chemistry class they shared. Blossom would argue with their classmates until she exhausted them enough to gave into her side.

"So what did you think of Professor Utonium's lesson today?" Blossom asked, struggling to reach for a water bottle in the back of a freezer.

"Snooze-fest. I could do covalent bonds in my sleep, honestly," he complained, grabbing the water bottle for her and placing it on her tray.

She thanked him, pushing some hair out of her face. "Oh thank god. I thought I was the only one who thought the lesson was redundant," she responded, walking alongside Brick to the group's picnic table, passing by Ace who was leaning against an oak tree.

Ace glared at them, going unnoticed by the pair of redheads due to their focus on their own conversation. The sight of the two together initiated Ace to think back to the party where he found them standing close to each other. _Way too close_.

Ace pushed the image out of his mind as he waited for Butch. He had asked Ace for assistance in a special task but left him in the dark on what it was about. His curiosity was starting to kill him.

"Yo Ace!" Butch shouted across the courtyard, gaining a few looks. He jogged over to Ace, "Sorry for the wait. Fucking Professor Jojo said I was "monkeying" around too much in class and held me back just to lecture me," he rolled his eyes, moving his hand to mimic someone talking.

"Damn. Lectures from Jojo are the fucking worst."

"I know. I just don't fucking understand how someone can talk in the third person all the time."

"Right? I honestly want to know if he gets laid or not?"

Butch scrunched his nose in disgust, "God! Fuck Ace, I don't even want to think about that. Ugh, that's fucking disgusting…" Butch shook his head, trying to get rid of the mental image he had. "...Let's just get to business so I can forget that this conversation happened." Ace nodded, holding back his laughter with a tight smirk. "Alright, so Blossom and I got in a fight this morning–"

"When aren't you guys fighting?" Ace interrupted, lowering his shades to judge Butch.

Butch avoided his eyes, "That's not the fucking point here, Ace–"

"All I'm saying, you used to be rolling in pussy here two years ago. And now look at you. Constantly getting your ass chewed out—for what? A hot piece of ass? She better have a platinum vagina because you're fucking whipped," Ace said harshly, looking at him in disgust.

"Well, I love her. End of story," Butch defended, looming over Ace like an angry God.

Ace quickly darted his eyes over to where Blossom was. Her and Brick were joined by Buttercup and the blonde couple. She sat next to Brick, laughing with the rest of the group at, what it appeared to be, something Boomer said.

He looked back at Butch, putting his hands up defensively, "Whatever you say, man."

"Great," Butch said, rolling back his shoulders. "Anyways… Back to business. So Blossom and I were arguing–" Ace rolled his eyes, which thankful, Butch didn't see because of his glasses, "–about the practice field that apparently the cheerleaders use. That field is prime land for the football team to use." Ace nodded, following along with what Butch was saying. "Blossom claims she fought Him for the field, but I feel like there's more to it, you know? I need you to see if I'm right. See if there's some fucking loophole or shit. Anything that I can use to intimidate her, so she'll back down."

"Quick question. Isn't Blossom the head cheerleader?" Ace asked, eyebrow raised in eagerness.

Butch nodded, not really putting much thought into the question. He only cared about the practice field at this point.

"Co-head, yeah."

Ace smirked. Getting the chance to mess with Blossom? This type of opportunity did not happen very often, and he sure as hell was not going to turn it down. He grinned, rubbing his hands together in excitement.

"Well then, you have the right man for the job."

* * *

After three hours of doing his various homework assignments, Brick was completely and utterly tired. The workload at the Academy was triple the size of his previous school's. It was not like Brick did not want the challenge, he just needed to adjust to the change—and the best way for him to do so was to take a nice and peaceful nap.

Which was what he did until Butch bursted into their dorm after football practice. He came in, slamming the door, causing Brick to jump up from his sleep.

"What the fuck?" Brick groaned, rubbing his eye.

Butch glared at him, still covered in sweat from practice as he searched through his mountain of clothes.

Brick has noticed there has been somewhat of a tension between the two. He knew the exact reason why, but instead of talking about it, Brick just turn over and tried to sleep again.

Five minutes in and Butch was not having it.

"Why the fuck wouldn't you join the team?" Butch asked bluntly, his voice strained.

Brick sighed, pulling his covers over his head. He figured Butch would not pester if he continued to ignore him. That was what worked the last three times Butch asked the same question.

Brick was wrong this time. _Very wrong_.

Butch yanked the covers off his bed, leaving Brick exposed. He glared down at the redhead, towering over him.

"I said, why the _fuck_ wouldn't you join the team?" he asked more aggressively.

"I just… I don't want to play anymore," Brick mumbled in his pillow.

"What do you _mean_ you don't want to play anymore? I watched your previous interviews online. You constantly claimed football was "your passion" and "wanted to make it into the _NFL_ ". What the fuck happened to that?"

"I just don't want to play anymore. Leave it at that. Okay?" Brick said calmly, rubbing his temples.

Butch slumped his shoulders in defeat. His plan of using intimation was not working on Brick. He should have figured it would not work in the first place—Brick was too smart for that. Butch had to switch over to his other plan, and all that took was setting the bait and a little manipulation.

"...Well, if you're not going to play, can you at least help coaching us? We could really use the help."

Brick sighed deeply, a little surprised and suspicious by Butch's sudden mood change, "You're saying you would only want me to help coach? That's it? There is no ulterior motive?"

"I just want you to coach us," Butch reassured.

Brick closed his eyes, knowing he'll regret the decision, "...Fine."

"Great!" Butch grinned wildly. "Practice starts at 3 tomorrow."

"Can't wait," Brick said sarcastically, grabbing his covers off the floor.

"Me either," Butch replied as his phone pinged, alerting him of a text message from Ace.

 _Snuck into record-keeping and found your loophole. Meet me by my locker in the morning._

Butch stared at his phone with a devilish grin. His plans were going exactly how he wanted them to.

* * *

"Here you go. Everything you'll need is in there," Ace said, grinning victoriously, handing Butch a frail booklet.

Butch flipped through the few pages, not taking in what they said, "Can you explain this shit to me? I need to act like I know what I'm talking about and reading comprehension isn't exactly my strong suit."

Ace rolled his eyes, "Alright, get this. According to the athletic director's records, any team–except gender-specific sports, like football—practicing on campus, must have athletes of both sexes apart of the program. It's clearly stated in rule 78," Ace pointed out with a smug grin.

Butch stared at him, confused, "What the fuck does that do for me?"

Ace sighed deeply. "It means that only teams who include both male and female members can reserve a space for themselves. If they don't include both sexes fairly and equality, then the program can be shut down."

"I… I still don't get it," Butch admitted embarrassingly, scratching the back of his head.

"Butch. It is simply. The cheerleading team has the option to have male members on the squad; yet, they fail to have any guys, meaning they shouldn't even have a practice field to begin with because only sports, that included both sexes, can," Ace dumbed down, rolling his eyes at how dense his friend was. "And if anything, one could argue they are discriminating against the male population."

"That's a fucking dumb rule. Why would that exist?"

"Women's rights," Ace suggested, shrugging his shoulders. "But that doesn't matter, my friend—You have your loophole. Now go exploit it to your advantage."

Butch grinned wickedly, but it quickly faded when he spotted Blossom heading down the hall. She walked past two, not even looking at them.

"Blossom! Wait up!"

Blossom did not stop for him, turning around the corner and hoping she will make it to her Chemistry class before Butch can catch up to her. Sadly, that did not happen. Just as she was about to enter the classroom, Butch's 6'3" body stood right in front of her with a cocky grin.

She sighed deeply, "What do you want, Butch? I'm trying to get to class."

He handed her the slim booklet, "Congratulations, you have been served."

"Butch, what are talking about?" Blossom asked, narrowing her eyes and reluctantly grabbing the booklet for his grasp. She quickly scanned the pages, not finding anything significant. To be exact, she did not have the slightest clue as to why Butch would be handing her a tiny book about the school's Athletic Department. "What is this?"

"I would re-read rule 78 if I were you," he responded smugly.

She rolled her eyes, turning the pages again but then her eyes widened. She must have re-read the small paragraph about fifteen times, "You gotta be kidding me," she said, shoving the book into Butch's chest. "You really had Ace-"

"How do you know it was Ace?"

Blossom puffed some hair out of her face, "Because Ace is slimy enough to do this—But that's beside the point. You had him go through school records just so you can get a patch of grass."

Butch took a step closer to her, glaring down at her, "A patch of fucking grass that you wouldn't give up. You pushed me to do this–"

"I didn't push you to do anything, Butch–You're pretty incredible, you know that," Blossom raged. "Makes me question my sanity and why I would ever want to date you… For a whole year, nonetheless."

Butch's expression soften, shifting to a panic state now, "Blossom, what are saying? I… I wasn't going to say anything. Just trying to–"

"It doesn't matter, Butch…" Blossom mumbled, moving past him to enter the classroom but bumping her shoulder into his arm on the way in.

Butch was not sure on how to comprehend what was happening. He just wanted to intimidate her a little. Scary her into letting the football team to use the practice field. He was eventually going to bargain with her by still letting the cheerleaders practice there too, once Butch had finished proving his point. It was the only way Butch knew Blossom would give him what he wanted, but now he did not even want the practice field anymore. He just wanted his girlfriend to forgive him.

* * *

Ms. Fatale's French class was viewed as one of the hardest and strictest classes at the Academy by most students. She would never let anyone use the bathroom because they would miss out on her "precious" class time, would not let students make up any class assignments when they were absent, and expected all her students to speak French the entire time they were in her classroom–even though most of them were beginners to the language. There was also a strange feeling of favoritism towards female students.

Luckily for Blossom, French was her native language. This meant she could skip Ms. Fatale's class anytime she wanted, and while she never skipped class unless she was deathly ill, she needed to after fighting with Butch.

She also needed time to figure out how to combat against rule 78, and fast. There was no telling if someone else could discover it and bring it to Him's attention. They could have the cheerleading program shut down, which Blossom could name at least ten girls who were bitter enough to do so. Then there was also the chance Ace might say something, and to her, that would be way worst. Just thinking about the possibles, gave her a headache.

She also needed her bed desperately.

When Blossom opened her door, she suddenly became aware of a loud sucking noise. She turned the dorm's lights on, instantly widening her eyes.

"Oh. My. God!" Blossom exclaimed in disbelief at the scene in front of her.

The scene was Buttercup, who was only in her underwear and had a spot on her neck that was definitely going to turn into a huge hickey soon, and a very frazzled, Mitch Mitchellson.

"Oh hey, Blossom," Mitch said, making awkward eye contact with her. Blossom opened her mouth to reply, still in shock, but Mitch had already gotten up to quickly grab his shirt off the floor and give Buttercup a quick peck on the lips before practically running out the door. Buttercup simply smiled sheepishly at her roommate.

Blossom stared at her, dumbfounded, "What? When? And how did that happen?"

Buttercup shrugged her shoulder, "We bonded in detention last year."

"Obviously," Blossom snorted. "And I thought we established a no boys policy in our room?"

" _Please_ ," Buttercup said, rolling her eyes. "You broke that rule so many times with Butch last year. And let's not forgot the time I walked in on you two... still cannot get that image out my head."

Blossom blushed furiously, lowering her head. "Well, you're in luck then. Butch wouldn't be around anymore," she mumbled, picking at a piece of lint on her skirt.

"Hold up, you guys broke up?" Buttercup asked, raising her eyebrow curiously.

"I'm not entirely sure… but it sure does feels like we did."

"No wonder you're skipping," Buttercup acknowledged, taking a seat at Blossom's desk, still in her underwear. "What did he fucking do? Do you need me to fight him? Because trust me, I will."

Blossom let out a small laugh and then sighed heavily. "It's so stupid. We got in an argument over a practice field–"

"Why would that have any relevance?" Buttercup asked, finding the topic of argument trivial. Blossom informed her on the details, causing Buttercup to shake her head. "God. Butch is so fucking dumb. I don't know why you put up with him."

"It's… It's complicated…" Blossom muttered, still picking at the lint. She really did not want to talk about her relationship with Butch; she just wanted to focus on the other dilemma at hand. "... Anyways. He brought Ace into it and got him to find this loophole–"

"Of course the dumbass would have _Ace_ _the_ _snake_ to do his dirty work," Buttercup muttered under her breathe.

"–And I know Butch just did it to prove a point, but now that I know this rule exists, I'm going to be paranoid about someone finding out. Which could mean the field I petitioned, campaigned, and begged for–"

"I thought you told me that your dad made a huge donation to build the new library to convince Him to give the cheer team a practice field?" Buttercup asked, raising an eyebrow.

"He did…" Blossom backtracked, her cheeks becoming slightly red from Buttercup remembering the fact. "But I still fought _really hard_ for that field. Hard enough that I wouldn't let anyone take it—And to top it all off, if someone does say something, there's a possibility they could end the cheerleading program."

Buttercup rubbed her temples, trying to digest the situation. "What is this "loophole" anyways? I'm sure there's a way we can fight this."

Blossom explained rule 78 to her. Buttercup nodded once she fully understood the situation, leaning back into the desk chair thoughtfully.

"I don't know what to do except having to tell Bubbles and the girls."

As Blossom said that, Buttercup quickly sat up, snapping her fingers.

"I fucking got it! All you have to do is just have some guy join the team. That way, you can say both genders are involved in the sport. Therefore, you'll be following the rule and wouldn't have to worry about it anymore."

Blossom's eyes lit up, "My God, You're right. Why the heck didn't I think of that?"

"I know, I'm surprised too," Buttercup smirked. "You're obviously not using your big brain wisely."

"Okay, that was a rhetorical question. And I've been under a lot of emotional stress today, so cut me some slack," Blossom defended, and then frowning.

"What?"

"How the heck am I going to find a male cheerleader when the first game is Thursday? Plus, we have zero promotion and the male ego is too fragile, so no one is going to try out. We'll have no guys to recruit from."

"Ah... luckily for you, this is when you're super awesome, ridiculously athletic, tomboy best friend comes in handy."

"Wait. You would really get some guys for me?" Blossom asked, beaming in delight.

Buttercup nodded, "I got this, Blossom. Trust me. By this afternoon, you'll have a _Disneyland_ worthy line of male recruits."

* * *

Townsville Academy's football field was everything like the rest of the school; polished and held to the highest standard. However, that could not be said about the team who occupied the field.

Brick had only been at their practice for about twenty minutes, and he could already tell they were in desperate need of help. The running backs kept fumbling the ball when going against the defense, while the linebackers were giving up way too easily. Balls were dropped more than being caught and the quarterback liked throwing more to the defense than his receivers. While this was happening, the coaching staff rather discussing their fantasy football league than the actual team.

Brick felt like the best player on the team was their kicker.

"So what do you think of the team?" Butch asked, coming from the field and taking off his helmet to squirt water on his face.

"I'm not going to sugar-coated it… You guys play like shit. I think my grandpa could play better than you guys—And he's legally blind."

Butch smirked, water dripping down his face, patting the redhead's shoulder, "This is exactly why I asked you to coach us, bro. We need someone that really knows how to win."

"Right…" Brick mumbled, scanning the field to find his first project to fix. "Who do you think needs the most work?"

"Practically everyone—even I could use some help."

Brick sighed, "...Then I think I'll start with the quarterback… Who is that by the way?"

"You're looking at him," Butch said, grinning proudly and puffing out his chest.

"I wouldn't be so proud of that, buddy. Your throwing skills are atrocious."

Butch glared at him, "It's my first year. Cut me some fucking slack."

Brick shrugged, "Just being honest–"

In the distance, a whistle sounded, cutting Brick off.

"Santos, get your ass back on the field!" The coach screamed at the other end of the field, walking furiously towards the two.

"Talk to you later, bro," Butch said, putting his helmet back on and running onto the field.

The coach still came over to where Brick stood, staring angrily at the redhead.

"And who are you?" The coach asked, furrowing his bushy, caterpillar-like eyebrows. He was missing a couple of teeth, had a beer belly, and spoke in a heavy southern accent.

"Brick Adams."

He nodded, recognizing the name. "Oh. You're the new kid. I'm Coach Lumpkins, but you can call me Fuzzy."

Brick nodded. He tried to make small talk with the man, but Fuzzy was not interested. Instead, the coach was watching his players on the field. Butch had just overthrown a ball towards one of his receivers and was yelling explicits all over the place. Fuzzy frowned at the scene, grumbling to himself.

"Boy, when are you joinin' this team? We're in need of some talent here."

"Sorry to disappoint, but my football days over—But Butch convinced me to help with coaching the players—If that's alright?"

Fuzzy continued grumbling to himself, frustrated by Brick's answer. He walked away from Brick. "Whatever kid," he shouted dismissively then proceeding to spit on the field.

Brick raised an eyebrow at the interaction, finding the old man to be pretty odd. He turned his attention back to the field, watching the running backs fail at their drills again. Brick observed the team for another ten minutes until he could not take it anymore. He had to do something.

He walked onto the field, which caused all the other players to drop whatever they were doing and stare at him. To Brick, he felt embarrassed about how they were treating him—like he was some kind of football god or something—but he did feel gratified by it, too. Brick also felt guilty for letting them down, but he had to.

He just had to.

Brick called Butch and the small group of wide receivers into a huddle.

"Alright, I have to admit it… This team is such fucking garbage. Butch, you need to stop flinging the football like it's a rag doll, got it?" Butch nodded. "Receivers, you have these things called hands. Use them. It works wonders–"

"Like we haven't tried that. Try catching a fucking ball with how he's throwing them. It's literally impossible," one of them complained. Butch glared at him, which caused the person to cower behind the other players next to him.

"Yeah, that's what I fucking thought, Colin," Butch threatened.

Brick rolled his eyes, even though Colin had a point. The group didn't have an ounce of faith in Butch, so why would they take him seriously as a quarterback? Brick had to prove to them that Butch had what it takes to lead the team—and there was only one way he could do so. He sighed deeply, mentally preparing himself for the expected aftermath of what he was about to do.

"Someone give me a route to run."

"What?" They all said in unison.

"You fucking heard me. Give me a route." The guy closest to him leaped into action, explaining his route. Brick nodded, "Okay, I'm going to run the route. Butch, you do your thing. Just don't fling it," he instructed, taking his place on the yard line.

Butch took his place, grinning ear-to-ear. This was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to push Brick into having to come on to the field and demonstrating to the team how to play. Now hopefully, Brick will get nostalgic about playing, like Butch planned, and immediately join the team afterward.

Brick looked back at Butch, waiting for his signal. When he did, Brick was off. The route called for him go from the outside to rapidly undercut across the field to the inside—a route that would be extremely difficult for those with who have weak ankles. He followed the route exactly, timing it perfectly for Butch's release of the ball.

However, Butch overthrew the football again. Brick cursed silently to himself but pushed himself to catch the ball for Butch's sake. He extended his arms as far as he could, leaping from the ground. His fingers halted the ball from going any farther. After juggling the ball with his fingertips, Brick finally gained control over the ball, pulling it close to his body and tucking it under his arms. Once Brick landed on the ground, he ran a few more yards to get what could have been a touchdown in an actual game.

The whole field went silent from amazement—it was the first time anyone has ever caught a ball from Butch since he was upgraded to quarterback. Coach Lumpkins looked like he was about to have a heart-attack and began cursing to himself since Brick no longer wanted to play. The rest of the team began to cheer, while Butch ran over to him.

"Dude, that was fucking unbelievable. That was like professional, _Randy Moss_ type of shit."

Brick shrugged nonchalantly, trying to ignore his praise and remain modest, but could not help grinning. "It really wasn't anything, but thanks. I think that will get your receivers to trust you–"

Butch covered Brick's mouth, shifting his eyes all around the field as a loud, enthusiastic tone spread around the field "Is me... or do you hear _cheering_?"

Just as he said that the cheerleading team came running across the field from the gym, singing one of their cheers. They stopped at their practice field, which was located right next to the football team's field.

At the center of it all, was Blossom who stared down all the football players, stopping at Butch and Brick. She glared at Butch but seemed puzzled when she saw Brick standing there. But that was not what really caught everyone's attention. No, it was the fact Buttercup–who would never be caught dead at anything cheerleading related–and three guys stood on the field alongside them.

Standing with the cheerleaders was Mitch, Dexter, and Ace.

Butch's face instantly harden when he saw Ace. "You have got to be fucking kidding me," he muttered, taking off his helmet again, throwing it onto the ground and marching over to Blossom.

Brick stood in the endzone awkwardly, unsure on what to do. He was curious about the whole ordeal and why Butch's mood soured so quickly, prompting Brick to follow him instead of waiting around for the dark-haired male.

"Blossom, what the fuck is this?" Butch whispered harshly into her ear. She ignored him, instructing the girls to do some stretches. "Hello? Can you fucking answer me?"

Blossom calmly walked away from him, joining Bubbles and Buttercup with the male recruits.

Unfortunately, Blossom was right about the difficulty of finding any male recruits. Buttercup asked everyone and anyone who she saw in a span of two hours that identified with the male gender but got rejected each and every time. She had to basically bribe the three who actually showed up.

"Okay, so we're going to need you to show us why you should join our cheer team family," Bubbles said with excitement in her voice. She was actually looking forward to a guy joining the team; feeling like it would add a whole new dynamic to the team. "First, we're going to need each of you to run six laps around the field, in order for us to see your stamina."

All three started to complain, causing Buttercup to glare at them. "Either you move your asses or you'll have to deal with me," she said coldly, raising her fist. They immediately followed her orders, sprinting away from the group of girls.

"Honestly Buttercup, I know it was slim pickings, but really? This is the best we have?" Blossom asked, rubbing her temples.

"Hey, I tried. And look, you have three guys to choose from. Better than none."

"Yeah, two guys that wouldn't ever cut it on the team. And the other one hates my guts... Couldn't we just ask Boomer to join?" Blossom asked Bubbles, staring at her desperately.

"Can't. Boomy is doing water polo for the fall season. And you know how much he loves his water sports… Plus, I think we should give them a chance."

Buttercup nodded in agreement, "Yeah. Dexter will literally follow any order you give him–"

Blossom rolled her eyes, "Please don't remind me."

"Mitch has won school spirit three years in a row somehow. And Ace is extremely flexible."

"I don't _even_ want to know how you know that," Blossom grimaced, scrunching her nose in disgust. Bubbles agreed, mirroring her expression.

"What? I mean–"

"We agreed not to talk about those dark days, Buttercup. _Never again._ "

"Fine… But in my excuse, it was sophomore year and everyone fucks up then."

Bubbles giggled at the comment, while Blossom chuckled. "Sure, whatever you say," Blossom replied, looking at the guys' progress. Mitch's face was entirely red, while Ace seemed to not even have broken a sweat. Dexter stop mid-way, hunching over as if he was going to puke–or he already had, which Blossom hoped he had not.

Blossom then saw Butch and Brick, who were still on their field. They were engaged in a deep conversation; one that appeared to have Butch upset. Brick was patting his shoulder awkwardly in sympathy. It was obvious the redhead was not sure on how to comfort the green-eyed male. And that was when a light-bulb went off in Blossom's head, but she had to wait until the two were done with their conversation since Blossom decided to avoid Butch until she figured out her feelings about their situation.

"So wait… Are you guys…" Brick asked, trying to choose his words wisely.

"I don't know, man. I really hope not. I love her too much to end things. It's just… I was just too fucking wrapped up in trying to prove something that I didn't even consider her side," Butch explained, staring at his cleats.

Brick quickly looked over to Blossom. She happened to look up at the same time, meeting his eyes. She smiled softly at him, waving. Brick smiled back quickly before focusing back on Butch.

"...I think she'll forgive you."

Butch looked at him like he was an idiot, "You obviously don't know Blossom."

"You're right. I don't," Brick shrugged. "But I do believe she'll forgive you if she saw how sincere you are."

"Maybe…"

"You might also want to tell her how wrong you were about everything. You know how much she loves being right all the time," Brick chuckled.

Butch smirked, taking in his advice. Brick did make some good points, and Butch could see how if he just apologized and said Blossom was right, it would fix everything. It has been proven to work before. He was just blinded by his negative feelings from their argument to come to this realization. Brick helped Butch clear his mind and finally become aware of the real solution to his problems.

"You're right… Thanks, bro. I think I'm going to talk to her—Right after, I deal with Ace," he said, setting his eyes on the lanky male. He walked over to Ace's path, blocking him from running.

"What the fuck, man?" Ace hissed, trying to move around Butch, but Butch was too big and fast for him to do so.

"I can ask you the same fucking question," Butch spat, crossing his arms.

Ace smiled sheepishly, "I expected you to say something… You see, my girl Buttercup got to tasking about me joining the cheer team. And let me say, she's can really convince a fella."

Ace knew it looked incredibly bad for him to try out for the cheer team when, just 8 hours ago, he was trying to end the program, but Buttercup gave him a good reason to join. Plus, being on the team would give Ace an easier way to mess with Blossom and possibly find some real dirt to finally break her and Butch up. Of course, Ace was not going to confess this to Butch, but eventually, he will be having his friend seeing the light about his god-awful girlfriend.

"She told you it would be easier to get with girls, didn't she?" Butch asked flatly.

Ace snapped his fingers, "Bingo. Now if you excuse me, I have tryouts to finish," he said, beginning to run again. Butch let him go, not sure whether he was pissed off at Ace or was just annoyed. He did not have time to decide as he heard Fuzzy's whistle blowing in the distance.

"Santos! Do you need me to put a dog leash on you or something?" he screamed across the field.

Butch looked over to Blossom, who was busy instructing her team to notice. He sighed deeply, running over to his respective field, hoping he can fix everything soon.

"Okay!" Blossom clapped, "Girls, grab your pom-poms and go over routines A through J. Dee Dee, you'll be in charge while Bubbles and I assess the boys."

"Yay!" Dee Dee shouted, jumping in the air.

Blossom turned to Bubbles and Buttercup as the guys returned from their runs. "Unfortunately, Ace had the best run. We need to test their rhythm—but I'll be right back," she whispered, heading towards Brick without waiting for the girls' responses. Bubbles followed Blossom's orders, telling the boys what to do next, while Buttercup raised an eyebrow at Blossom.

"Hey," Blossom smiled, twisting the hair in her ponytail.

"Hey."

"So… I see you're finally joining the football team?"

Brick shook his head, "Nope. I'm just coaching them."

"Oh really? That's interesting…" Blossom mumbled, biting her bottom lip.

"Quit the small talk, Bloss," Brick smirked. Blossom raised an eyebrow at the shorter version of her nickname, but he ignored it, "You obviously want something."

Blossom smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. "Am I that transparent?"

"Not really. I just had a hunch that something was up."

"Uh huh… Well, I guess you can see we're looking for male cheerleaders, and I was wondering if you would try out?" she asked, giving him an award-winning smile. Brick began laughing furiously causing Blossom to smack his arm. "Come on, I'm serious."

Brick calmed down his laughter, not sure on what to say. "Blossom, I… I can't… The football team needs me."

Blossom rolled her eyes, not happy with his answer. She had hoped he would agree; after all, he was her last option for avoiding the decision between the other three.

"If you really cared about them needing you, you would be playing for them. Just saying," Blossom point out snarkily, but instantly regretted saying it.

"You're right but things aren't that simple," he said coldly, looking away from her.

Blossom sighed to herself. She really needed to tone down the bitchiness when she does not get what she wants. It has become a real nasty habit for her.

"...I'm sorry, Brick. That was entirely uncalled for... I've just had an exhausting day. And I'm not using that as an excuse–"

"It's fine," he muttered. A silence fell between the two as Brick stared at the football field. Colin just caught a pass from Butch and they were all celebrating.

"...Can we meet up later? Like after practice?" Blossom asked softly.

The question caught him off-guard, not sure about what she possibly needed him for.

"Is this to convince me to become a cheerleader? Because if it is, I'll have to respectfully decline."

Blossom chuckled, "No. That was desperate attempt to avoid having one of them on my team," she said, pointing at the three guys. Ace was staying on beat to the music Bubbles was playing, but kept staring creepily at the other girls. Dexter would do the moves five seconds after the fact, and Mitch was just doing the air guitar.

"Yeah… Good luck with that," Brick chuckled. "And I'll meet you by the bleachers, alright?"

She nodded as he walked back to the football team's side. Sighing heavily, she went back to Bubbles and Buttercup.

"What was that about?" Buttercup whispered, looking at Blossom suspiciously.

"Had to ask him a question. Nothing much to it," she mumbled, brushing Buttercup off. Buttercup opened her mouth to reply, but Blossom beat her to it. "So what are we thinking?"

"I think Mitch is our best option, but it's hard to argue that when Ace has been better. I can't think of anyway we can spin this," Bubbles sighed, slumping her shoulders.

"I agree. Dexter is an uncoordinated mess. Mitch is just not an athlete but has enough to energy to be a cheerleader. And Ace is a fucking pervert," Buttercup acknowledged, staring pitifully at the boys.

"But he has done the best," Bubbles chimed with regret. She looked at Blossom, who was processing the information.

"I think I know how to play this," Blossom answered, gathering Bubbles and Buttercup into a huddle. She whispered to both of them. Buttercup grinned in approval, while Bubbles smiled brightly.

"That's so smart," Bubbles agreed.

"Alright, I think we've seen enough," Blossom announced, turning off the music and facing the three guys. "Dexter, you're out."

"No! I have failed you, my love," he shouted to Blossom, dropping to his knees and appearing if he just had his heartbroken. Dexter began to mumble to himself, promising to prove to Blossom of their love next time.

Blossom cringed at the sight until Buttercup escorted the short ginger off the field. She then tapped her chin, shifting from Mitch and Ace, "Ace… You're out too."

"What? I was ten times better than both of them. This is fucking discrimination," Ace objected, beginning to curse in Spanish as Buttercup re-joined the group.

"You were better, but according to rule 79 in that handy booklet you gave Butch, team captains can dismiss anyone who is found to be verbally, physically, or sexually harassing other members of the team. And well, my co-head and I both see your perverted behavior as sexual harassment," she explained to him, grinning cockily. Blossom, once again, had beat Ace at his own little game.

Ace glared at her, regretting his inability at not inform Him about rule 78 before all of this. If Buttercup had not distracted him with the promise of cheerleader babes, he would have come out victorious. In his head, Ace swore to get revenge on Blossom once again as he walked off the field.

"So does this mean I made the team?" Mitch asked, scratching his head.

"Yes!" Bubbles squealed, jumping and clapping.

Mitch joined her squealing, earning judgmental looks from the other two. He looked at them awkwardly, smoothing his shirt, "Can we pretend that didn't happen?"

"You sure know how to pick them, Butters," Blossom whispered to her sarcastically.

Buttercup rolled her eyes, "Whatever. My man is a cheerleader now. Time for us to celebrate!" she exclaimed, rubbing her hands together in excitement.

"Sorry to break it to you, but you're going to have to wait until practice is over."

Buttercup stared at her blankly, "You have got to be fucking kidding me?"

"Nope," Blossom smirked. "And by the way, I thought you had softball practice today?"

Buttercup's eyes widened, "Oh shit! I totally fucking forgot. Mitch, meet me at the mess hall when you're done," she shouted, sprinting towards the softball field

Bubbles giggled at her dark-haired friend's antics, while Blossom called the other girls over.

"Okay girls, Bubbles and I are proud to announce our newest member of the squad… Mitch Mitchellson!"

* * *

By the time practice was over, the sun was beginning to set. Brick stared at the changing of colors in the sky as he waited for Blossom. He wondered how the sunset here looked vastly different from the ones he experienced in Boston.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Blossom asked, taking a seat next to him on the bleachers and staring up at the sky too.

He looked down at her, smiling, "Yeah. _It is_."

They sat on the bleachers for a couple of minutes, in silence, watching as the sky shifted from oranges and pinks to dark blue and black. Once a few stars started to peek out, they finally decided to leave.

"Can you carry my stuff? Mitch dropped me on my shoulder," she asked, rubbing the muscle tissue of her shoulder. Brick accepted, placing her bag on his broad shoulder.

"Where to?"

"My dorm," she shrugged.

Brick raised his eyebrow, "I thought Him forbid guys from being in the girls' dorms?"

"He does. But that's the one rule literally no one here follows. We have nowhere here that is Co-Ed after school other than the library and the mess hall."

"And yet, you got on me for breaking the dress code, Miss Class President," Brick teased.

Blossom rolled her eyes playfully, "Honestly, I was just trying to help with your fashion choices."

"What? You don't like the hat?"

She shook her head, "You look like you're ten."

"Oh really?" Brick chuckled, "This is coming from the girl with a bow in her hair like a five year old."

"Hey! Respect the bow—It's a part of my cheerleading uniform," Blossom defended, pulling on her cherry red bow to tighten her ponytail.

Brick laughed quietly at her, opening the door to her residency hall. The girls' hall was completely different from the guys. They had a piece of student artwork on each wall and there was a floral scent in the air, while the guys' hall was bare and smelt like dirty socks.

Three girls walked passed them. Two of them flashed a flirty smile at Brick, the other giving a strange look at the pair, which made Brick feel a little bit unwelcomed. Blossom noticed his cautiousness as they entered the elevator.

"Don't worry about it. She was probably wondering why I am with you and not Butch," Blossom acknowledged, punching in her floor number.

"Speaking of Butch–"

"I really don't want to talk about him," she interrupted. Brick nodded, respecting her decision. He pursed his lips, trying to find something else to say, but instead, they stayed in silence until they walked into Blossom's room.

The room was entirely different from his—and was actually organized. Blossom had silky, pink tapestry over her wall with a plug-in chandelier hanging from the ceiling, while a plethora of photos were arranged on the wall in front of her desk. Her roommate's side was a bit more disheveled. Their covers were on the floor and had a clothing mountain similar to Butch's but nowhere close to his size.

"Who's your roommate?" Brick asked, dropping her bag on the floor.

"Buttercup."

"That must be interesting."

"Not really. We've shared a dorm together since 10th grade, so I'm used to her," Blossom shrugged.

Brick nodded, taking a seat at her desk as she sat Indian-style on her bed. They awkwardly stared at each for a few seconds.

"...So, why did you–"

"There's a reason why you're not joining the football team," she interrupted, flipping her hair. "I want to know why."

Brick raised an eyebrow, "I don't know why it's so hard for everyone to believe that I just don't want to play anymore."

" _Please_ ," Blossom rolled her eyes, "I saw you make that "touchdown" today—and in my opinion, you belong on that field. Football is _your_ thing."

Brick rubbed his neck, "Like I said, it's not that simple, Bloss."

He really wanted to tell her that she was right. That quitting football was not his choice, but he was not sure if he should. Brick knew, deep down, if he admitted his reasoning, he will be easily swayed into going against it. It was not because Brick did not want to keep his word, it was more about how his love for football was overpowering his willpower. Brick was expecting Blossom to at least attempt to convince him to start playing again, which will make resisting his decision even harder—it already was with her complimenting his abilities.

"What? Do have you have a girlfriend that doesn't want you to play or something?"

"No," Brick smirked, catching her eyes. He wiggles his eyebrows to tease her with Blossom rolling her eyes in response but kept a grin on her face. "No girlfriend… Just an overprotective mom."

"Ah… so you're a momma's boy," she teased.

Brick shrugged, "Tends to happen when you're raised by a single mom."

Blossom gave him sympathetic eyes, "Oh…I–"

"It's fine… I see it as having the best of both worlds. She's my mom and dad," Brick said, leaning back into the desk chair, staring at Blossom's chandelier. "She's had to put up with a lot of shit over the years—most of it being me, but... Anyway, she never really wanted me to play football. Always worried I would get injured, but she let me play because I was so passionate about it." Blossom nodded, placing her chin on her hand. "Despite her feelings about it, she was my biggest fan, came to every single one of my games—But before I came here, she made me promise not to play anymore."

Blossom raised an eyebrow, "She just made you promise that out of blue?"

Brick shook his head, "No…" he sighed deeply, "Last spring, my old school had a game to show off the new varsity team and whatever. It was a pointless game, but the other team apparently didn't get the memo because one of their linemen came and steamrolled me. I was knocked out for a few seconds and had to go to the hospital afterward. I end up having a concussion for a week and a couple of bruised ribs. I scared the shit out of my mom. So after that, she was done… And at the time, I kind of agreed with her," he admitted. "It was my first time getting an injury like that and I didn't want to scare my mom again… But it's true. I do belong on that field—I've just been trying to convince myself that I don't want to play anymore for my mom's sake, but I really fucking miss it. And today showed me that, which I'm sure was what Butch planned to happen, but.."

"Can I tell you something?" Blossom asked, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. Brick nodded, meeting her eyes. "Look, for my whole life, I've done whatever my parents wanted me to do. I don't even know how many times I've had to sacrifice doing things I love in order to make them happy… And that's just the thing about parents. They think they know what's best for you–and sometimes they do, don't get me wrong—but you are your own person. You have to make decisions they're going to disapprove of but that doesn't matter because you know what's best for yourself. Even though I wish I had enough courage to do the same, you shouldn't listen to your mom because this is your dream... And if you do break your promise, I'm sure your mom will understand—she'll be upset at first, but if she really knows you, she'll understand. She is still your biggest fan, after all."

"Well damn, Bloss." Brick said. "Who knew you were so philosophical?"

"That's really what you got out that?" Blossom asked flatly.

Brick shook his head, "No… I was already on the fence about playing again, but you did make some good points. You—and Butch—kind of are the catalysts for me wanting to play again."

She fluttered her eyelashes, grinning cockily, "That's good to know."

Brick chuckled, "...Thank you though. I really needed that."

"No problem," she grinned.

"And for being a good friend, it's now my turn to help you find a solution to your problem," Brick continued.

"What problem?" Blossom coughed. She suspected Butch told Brick about their argument, but Blossom did not want to discuss it with Brick; she did not know him well enough for her to open up. Plus, Blossom was expecting him to just take Butch's side and make her feel guilty.

"You know exactly what problem I'm talking about, Bloss," Brick sighed.

"Maybe, I do," Blossom mumbled, avoiding eye contact. "And what exactly do you make of it?"

"Well, for starters, you shouldn't break up with Butch—"

Blossom, taken back by his statement, narrowed her eyes at him, "Did Butch put you up to this?"

"Nope...This is all me."

She sighed loudly, not really wanting to talk about it but feeling obligated to. After all, she did just make Brick confess to her.

"I don't know… I know it's stupid–Like it was dumb to begin with, but then he just took it to another level… The whole thing makes me believe he really doesn't care about my feelings," Blossom muttered, hugging her knees and frowning at herself. "Or me."

She hated being vulnerable in front anyone, especially guys. More specifically, a guy Blossom just meet a week ago. Yet, here she was revealing a few too much that Buttercup did not even know about.

"Are you kidding me?" Brick erupted. Blossom folded her eyebrows in confusion as Brick spoke, "Butch is fucking crazy about you. I live with the guy, and he literally talks nonstop about three things: parties, sports, and you."

"So?"

"So?" he mimicked. "To me, that says a lot considering who Butch is, you know, since he would be a complete fuckboy if it weren't for you—But if that's not even it, the dude has looked like his dog has died for the past couple of days, and he also told me how he wants to make things right—he feels extremely guilty about everything… Trust me and just give the guy a chance."

"Brick, I…"

"Just give him a chance, alright?"

Blossom nodded slowly, swallowing a lump that formed in her throat."Alright… I will."

Brick grinned, "Great. I think–"

Before Brick could finish, the door opened and Buttercup entered the room. Buttercup was taken back when she saw Brick in the room and raised an eyebrow at Blossom.

"Hey, Brick," Buttercup greeted with a hint of annoyance, throwing her sports bag into their closet, "I see that Blossom didn't tell you about our no boys agreement, apparently."

Blossom glared at her, "You really want to go there after you and Mitch today?"

"I'm just messing with you, Blossom," Buttercup mocked, throwing herself onto her bed. "So what brings you to our dorm, Brick?"

"Just hanging out… but I was actually about to leave." Brick coughed, standing up to stretch. A bit of his stomach showed when he did this, displaying some of his abs, making Blossom blush a little. "I'll see you lovely ladies tomorrow."

"See ya later, Red," Buttercup hollered.

"Yeah, see you…" Blossom mumbled, fixing her hair to hide the redness in her cheeks.

Once she heard the door shut, Buttercup turned to Blossom.

"Again, what was that about?"

Blossom shrugged, "He had questions about our Chemistry homework. Dude has no clue about how covalent bonds work."

Buttercup looked at her skeptically but chose to ignore it—for now. "Alrighty then. I'm going to take a shower because I smell like a fucking pig," she proclaimed, entering the bathroom.

Blossom laughed quietly to herself, laying herself down on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She replayed her conversation with Brick in her mind, trying to figure out how she truly felt.

She wanted to forgive Butch just because Blossom felt the whole argument was stupid and unnecessary; and, she really did miss Butch. Yet, she felt like he disrespected her and did not even bother to think about how she felt about anything. But then… what Brick told her. How much Butch loves her, and how this has affected him too. Maybe Blossom was being a little too hard on him.

* * *

Blossom leaned against her locker, yawning. She figured Butch would come and look for her first thing in the morning and once she saw his emerald eyes surveying the halls; Blossom knew she was right once again.

When his eyes landed on her, Butch rushed over to her locker with an apologetic expression, "Blossom, please just hear me out."

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow, "...I'm listening."

Butch smiled brightly. The whole morning his stomach was in knots just thinking about this conversation and whether she'll listen to him or not. He did not deserve to have her hear him out, but Butch was going to take advantage of the opportunity.

"Look, I was wrong. Like completely, terribly, stupidly wrong… I shouldn't have pressed so hard about some dumb practice field. It was just… I don't know. You fucking pushed my buttons—but I wouldn't want it any other way because I love our dynamic… And I shouldn't have brought Ace into our business and I definitely shouldn't have try to intimidate you into doing what I wanted. I'm just so fucking sorry, Blossom. I'm sorry for being such a dick about… Well, _everything_."

"Are you done?" she asked, maintaining the same expression the whole time.

Butch lowered his head, frowning, "Yeah… That's it."

"Good," she said, taking a step closer to him and placing her hand on his cheek. He looked up, surprised, meeting her eyes. She spoke softly, "...Thank you for apologizing… I forgive you. But I just want to say, I was at fault too. I should have listened and let you talk instead of cutting you off. I did kind of provoke the situation more than I should have."

Butch smiled down at her, cupping his hand over her's, "I think we both could listen to each other more."

"Maybe…" Blossom grinned, standing on her tippy toes, kissing him lightly.

"Mmmm… Oh how I missed that."

"Don't make me regret my decision, Butch."

Butch rolled his eyes playfully, intertwining his fingers with her's, "Promise me next time we fight, we'll talk it out instead of holding a grudge."

"Like adults?"

He nodded, "Like adults."

"Sounds like a deal," she agreed, meeting his lips once again.


	3. Why Are You The One?

As a new week began, all of Ms. Keane's students were buzzing about her new assignment. She had them complete a gigantic personality test the week before, not explaining why. Students who already had her class eariler in the day were sworn into secrecy so her later classes would not know. With her final class of the day, Ms. Keane did not have to worry about it anymore.

"Can anyone answer why I made you complete a personality test last week?" Ms. Keane asked, gazing around at her class.

"Obviously for our assignment for this week," Buttercup responded flatly, rolling her eyes.

"Oh Buttercup…" Ms. Keane sighed, rubbing her temples. Moments like these made her question why she chose this profession. "You're not wrong, but I was looking for a more specific reason."

"Ms. Keane!" Dexter exclaimed, waving his hand furiously.

"Yes, Dexter?"

"Is it because you want us to psychoanalyze ourselves?"

"If he's right, then that's some deep level shit, Keane," Butch chimed, making some in the room laugh.

Ms. Keane ignored Butch's comment, forcing a smile, "You're on the right track, Dexter," she said, grabbing a stack of packets off her desk. "Butch, can you pass these out for me?"

Butch quickly got up, handing them to each of his classmates. Buttercup practically snatched it out of his hand; both glaring at each other. He winked at Blossom when giving it to her, while she blew him a kiss. The last desk was Dexter's, in which, he put the packet at the edge of the desk so it would fall.

"Oh sorry, bro," was all he said, letting the papers fly onto the ground, not bothering to pick it up. Instead, he returned to his seat with a satisfied grin, watching Dexter scramble to pick up his papers.

"You're such a fucking dick," Buttercup whispered to him venomously, still glaring.

Butch rolled his eyes, "At least it's better than being a crusty bitc–"

"Okay!" Ms. Keane clapped, cutting Butch off. She was the only one to have heard their exchange due to the closeness of their seats to her desk, and she did not need to see where it was heading—not after last year's blowout between two. Instead, she continued on with her lesson, "The packet in front of you contains about two hundreds questions that each of you must answer–" A chorus of groans began. Ms. Keane forced another smile, "However, you will not be doing this assignment alone."

"Will we be picking who want to work with?" Bubbles asked, staring lovely at Boomer.

"No." More students groaned, claiming she was being unfair. Ms. Keane's eye began to twitch from her annoyance. "You will not be choosing because your personality tests have already chosen your partner–"

"Wait… What do mean?" Boomer asked seriously, gaining a judgemental look from Dexter.

"What I mean, Mr. Kealoha, is that your partners have been chosen based on your personality test scores. The assignment will be a social experiment of sorts. Each one of you will be matched together for specific reasons and the person you are paired with is someone who compliments or balances who you are as a person. And your assignment this week is to figure out why," Ms. Keane explained, smiling innocently at the many unamused faces. "You'll have to complete three parts of the Project: the questionnaire, a one-page paper, and a presentation on Wednesday, Thursday, or Friday… Any questions?"

"Yeah, I do," Butch said, raising his hand. "How much of this plays into our grade?"

"About 35% of your semester grade," she shrugged nonchalantly.

"Hot damn…" he mumbled to himself with his eyes widened. Butch was planning to do half of the assignment, but now, he could not unless he wanted a bad grade; and Butch was not the only one because half of the class shared the same expression as him.

"Now before we start anything, I need to reveal your partners," Ms. Keane continued, grabbing a clipboard off her desk. "Alright… Robin and Mitch–" Buttercup frowned; she was hoping her and Mitch would be a match. "–Mr. Ramirez and Julie; Mr. Kealoha and–" The class rolled their eyes, making the obvious prediction of him being paired with Bubbles; even the couple smiled brightly, waiting for the inevitable. "–Dee Dee–"

"What?" Bubbles exclaimed in disbelief, jumping out her seat. "That can't be."

"I agree," Boomer chimed, while the rest of class nodded in agreement.

"I'm sorry, but this is all based on the test results." Ms. Keane said, wanting to move on before class time ended. Bubbles pouted stubbornly, sitting back down, while Boomer tapped his pencil anxiously. If he was not her match, then who was? "Moving along… Rachel and Colin; Jeremy and Kori; Miss. Lopez And Dexter–"

"Your system must be flawed," Dexter interjected, cutting Ms. Keane off again. "There's no way me and... _that ditsy blonde_ would ever be a match."

"Keep talking, bud," Boomer said, glaring at the redhead, tightening his grip on his pencil.

Dexter opened his mouth to reply, but Ms. Keane spoke before he did, "Okay! No more interruptions until I'm done, alright?" The class nodded reluctantly. "Great… Grant and Karen; Jade and William; Elmer and Susie; Brick and Miss. Blanchette. And finally… Oh God, I really should have looked at this beforehand," she thought out loud, scratching her head and taking a big gulp, "...Butch and Buttercup."

"Ms. Keane, you've got to be kidding me?" Buttercup shouted as the bell rang to dismiss them. The rest of class ran out the door, not wanting to be apart of the highly expected explosive aftermath concerning the dark-haired individuals. "We're going to kill each other!"

"For once, I agree with Buttercup," Butch added, glaring at the green-eyed girl.

Ms. Keane pinched her nose, shaking her head, "I don't want you two worked together as much as you do, but this _is_ apart of the assignment. So there's not much I can do."

"But can't we just get different partners? I'm sure we closely match up with someone else too," Buttercup argued.

"I could do that but everyone else is already matched up. So it's either you take a bad grade on this assignment or work together," Ms. Keane explained, grabbing her bag. "Figure it out. I have papers to grade."

The two watched Ms. Keane leave her classroom before meeting each other's eyes, glaring.

"So what are we going to do?" Butch growled.

"We're going to put things aside and fucking work together, that's what we're going to do," Buttercup announced, crossing her arms.

"And if I don't want to?" he challenged, matching her standing.

"You want to lose 35% of your grade? Because a little birdy told me that your grades last year weren't so hot."

Butch cursed to himself, knowing that the little birdy was Blossom. He loved her but Butch sometimes hated how open she was with Buttercup.

"Fine… I'll try to make it work."

" _Great,"_ Buttercup said sarcastically, heading for the door. "We'll start tomorrow cause I've had enough of you today."

"Whatever…" he mumbled.

Butch wondered how, out everyone in his class, he matched up with Buttercup. They were constantly at each other's throats, which made him believe they were too toxic to ever complement or balance each other. He had too many questions and thoughts about the whole project, but he did know one thing.

This was going to be one hell of a long week.

* * *

"Okay, what's your deal?" Blossom asked, closing her gym locker with an eyebrow raised at Bubbles.

Cheerleading practice had just finished, and she noticed Bubbles was spaced out the entire time. Blossom knew something was definitely wrong when Bubbles asked not to be the flyer for the week—Bubbles was always the flyer.

"What? I… I'm fine. Just feeling a bit under the weather, that's all," Bubbles squeaked.

"You do realize that every time you lie, you sound like a _Minne Mouse_ , right?

"I do?" Bubbles questioned innocently as she sat down to change her shoes.

Blossom nodded, loosening her bow to let her hair down. "You do."

"I'm sorry…" Bubbles sighed, "I'm just really upset by this assignment. Ms. Keane basically told Boomy and I, that we're not right for each other–"

"I think you're putting way too much thought into it. Butch and I weren't paired, and we're fine with that."

"But your relationship is completely different from our's—and I mean that in the nicest way possible," Bubbles said sheepishly. Blossom nodded, narrowing her eyes at the blonde. Bubbles ignored her look, continuing, "And what if I'm not? What if Dee Dee and him are a much better match?" Bubbles questioned, looked over to Dee Dee, who was singing to herself as she changed. Bubbles wallowed in pity at the sight, "... Ms. Keane already thinks so."

"Bubs, come on," Blossom said sympathetically, placing her hand on Bubbles' shoulder. "If that was true, wouldn't they be together by now?"

"... I guess you're right," Bubbles muttered, trying to fight the lump in her throat. "But–"

"And if you ask me, you and Dee Dee are basically the same person," Blossom continued. "She's just almost a foot taller and you're more curvaceous. So I'm sure the results were, like, one percent off."

Bubbles nodded, trying to hold back some tears that had formed in her eyes. She looked over to Dee Dee again, feeling a bit jealous but mostly insecure.

She hated to think someone else was a better fit for Boomer than her and hearing that it was possible, drove her nuts. It was not like Bubbles did not trust DeeDee—she was one of her closest friends besides Blossom and Buttercup; it was more that they were so similar that everyone calls Dee Dee the "tall Bubbles". She was afraid Boomer might fall for Dee Dee for the same reasons he did with her, but somehow they would make a connection she and Boomer could never reach.

Her mind just kept going to worst case scenario, which was: Boomer realizing Dee Dee was a better match for himself and dumps Bubbles. They go on to have beautiful blonde and blue-eyed babies, while Bubbles is a lonely cat lady who could never get over Boomer.

Bubbles did understand she might be a bit overdramatic about the whole situation and she should trust Boomer—which she did; she just could not help herself from conjuring up negative thoughts.

"Yeah… Probably," Bubbles mumbled.

* * *

"It just pisses me the fuck off, you know? Like out of everyone, I got stuck with the she-beast," Butch whined to Blossom, who rolled her eyes in response. This was the twentieth time he complained to her that day about Buttercup—and it was only lunch time. "Why couldn't I be paired with you?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's because we're complete opposites?" Blossom acknowledged, pushing some hair out of her face and walking with him to their lunch table.

"No, we're—"

"And can you stop talking about Buttercup like that. I get that you mutually don't like each other, but she is my best friend."

"And?" Butch questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Just play nice for the week, okay?" Blossom coaxed, fluttering her eyelashes, "And if you do, you'll be in for a special treat. I promise."

"God, I love you," he purred, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

"I know," Blossom grinned, taking his hand and leading him to the table.

When Blossom and Butch arrived, Buttercup and Mitch—who recently joined their table group—quickly got up and excused themselves. They claimed it was because of wanting to spend time alone together, but everyone knew it was because Butch was there now and Buttercup did not want to be around him any more than she already had to. This left Blossom, Butch, and Brick at the lunch table.

"Fucking bi–"

"What did I just say?" Blossom scolded, hitting his arm.

He glared at her, rubbing his arm, "Alright, sorry—But violence is not a way to get your point across, babe."

"I know, right? She always hits me when I don't take her seriously," Brick chimed.

"Um no, I don't," Blossom challenged with sly grin.

"Um yeah, you do," Brick mocked, sharing the same expression and making Butch raise an eyebrow at the exchange. He never noticed them talking or hanging out before except for at lunch, but from their conversation, his previous belief towards them did not seem true. How could he have not noticed them interacting before? "And you don't realize how much power you got. I have, like, three bruises from you."

Blossom rolled her eyes, still grinning, "Are we really having this conversation again? Cause I see no bruises on your arms."

"Oh? So you're looking at my arms again?" Brick teased, adjusting his hat but also flexing his arms when doing so.

"No! I just, you know, checking to see, and would you look at that, no bruises," Blossom rambled before taking a sip of her water to hide the redness in her pale cheeks.

With a smirk, Brick opened his mouth to reply but darted his eyes to Butch, who was staring at him. _Hard_. His grin quickly faded, coughing awkward.

"I see you two have become pretty chummy," Butch quipped with a hint of jealousy, narrowing his eyes at the two. "How did that happen?"

Blossom rolled her eyes, "We have Mr. Utonium's class together. We pretty much _only_ talk there," she lied smoothly, wanting to avoid a jealous Butch.

Brick frowning for a second before nodding, "Yeah, and then she hits me when I don't agree with her answers," he added on.

Butch nodded. "Fucking dorks," Butch grinned, believing everything they had said. "I'm actually relieved you get along. Blossom and I don't really have any mutual friends beside Boomer and Bubbles. So welcome to the fam, bro."

"Thanks," Brick replied awkwardly.

"It's also great because we're dorm bros, so it's easier having Blossom around."

"If I want to be around, Butch," Blossom teased.

"Oh please, you love me," Butch smirked, kissing her softly. Brick tried to look at anything but two until they parted. "Anyways… Aren't you two working on the project together?" Both nodded, glancing at each other. "Well, I guess you'll be spending more time together outside the Chemistry lab."

"Yeah…" Brick mumbled, smiling softly at Blossom. "We will."

* * *

Upon working on Ms. Keane's project, Bubbles came to realized she forgot Boomer and Dexter were roommates now. Okay, saying she completely forgot was an exaggeration. Bubbles did know, but it was pretty much irrelevant to her until now. Since freshmen year, Butch and Boomer had always been roommates. So it was weird for her to think of someone else rooming with Boomer and now she remembered it was Dexter, she can see why Boomer always wanted to be in her dorm nowadays. It also was a perk that she roomed alone—but it was mainly to escape Dexter and his neurotic behavior.

Now, she had to deal with the redhead's behavior as they worked in guy's dorm. The two sat on opposites sides of the room; Dexter on his bed, Bubbles on Boomer's. She hugged onto one of his pillows, inhaling the extremely familiar and comforting smell of sandalwood they possessed. Dexter rubbed his glasses with his shirt before placing them back on and asking another question.

"If you could be any animal, what would you be and why?" he asked unamused, pinching his nose. "Who came up with these questions? This is something a four-year-old should be asked."

"I think it's a fun question," Bubbles smiled softly, trying to remain positive which was impossible to do in his presences.

"Of course, you would," Dexter mumbled to himself, wishing he had a different partner right now. So far, all this has shown him, was that he was right about Bubbles; she was just naive, dimwitted, airhead who was only popular for being a cute and caring person—just like his sister. It was all the things Dexter opposed of and it disgusted him that they could even be matched together, to the point it made he want to puke as they tried to figure why they were.

He watched her as she thought over the pointless question like her life depended on it, making him rolled his eyes. Dexter wondered how someone like her could even qualify to attend here.

"I would be a dolphin," Bubbles answered, grinning ear-to-ear. "They're intelligent and playful and just adorable. Plus, they're basically like mermaids and I've always wanted to be a mermaid"

Dexter rolled his eyes again, sighing, "Mermaids don't exist."

"You don't know that—hasn't, like, only five or six percent of the ocean been discovered?"

Dexter nodded, completely surprised she knew of that fact, "Yeah, so?"

" _So,_ that means there is a chance mermaids do exist. We just haven't been looking in the right places."

"That's so…" Dexter paused to actually consider what she was saying and he found she did have a legitimate argument; even though it physically pained him to think it over or agree with her. "Let's just move on. I have a math club meeting at 6."

Bubbles nodded, reading the next question, "What is the most attractive trait?"

Dexter snorted at the question, "That's easy. Having more than ten functioning brain cells. Which is apparently a rare thing to find these days."

"That can't really be your answer." Bubbles frowned. She was growing constantly frustrated by his answers for each question. Every time he would answer with something relating to the same subject—being intelligent. Bubbles knew he was all about education and whose got the better test score, but she did not think Dexter would be so shallow about it.

"It is. Next quest–"

"No. I'm not accepting that answer," Bubbles challenged, folding her arms stubbornly.

Dexter narrowed his eyes, offended by her challenge towards him. Why could she not just accepted his answer and move on?

"Why not? It's a perfectly logical answer and is how I feel. I listened to you talk about your mermaid nonsense. So let's continue on."

"No. I'm sorry, but I think you should be putting more thought into your answers. They're all the same and I feel like your answer should be less pretentious."

"Do you _even_ know what pretentious means?"

"Yes, I do," Bubbles grunted angrily, despite a part of her that was surprised by her reaction. She rarely ever gets mad, but his arrogant behavior was driving her insane. "And the fact that you just asked me that, shows me just how pretentious you actually are."

"I don't see what the big deal is about," Dexter argued. He has never seen Bubbles this angry before—actually, he has never seen her angry before. She was always in obnoxious good mood 24/7. So seeing how she was speaking to him, with a stare that could kill, it made him quiver a little. Who knew she could be so scary?

"It is a big deal. All you care about is proving how smart you are and it's always has to be a competition, to the point where you don't care about how you treat or speak to others. You're, like, a robot or something."

Dexter wanted to reply and opened his mouth to do so, but all that came out was a heavy sigh. Her words deeply effective towards him. The two sat in silence until Bubbles heard Dexter sniffle a little.

"Are… Are you crying?" Bubbles asked gently, feeling completely guilty.

Dexter wiped his eye, "No… I just have allergies."

"Dexter, it's alright to cry," Bubbles said softly. "And it's alright to show emotions. It makes you human."

Dexter nodded slowly, avoiding eye contact, "... I will consider your advice."

Bubbles smiled, "That's all I want… Do want to give the question any other try?"

"I…" He paused, taking the time to actually put some thought into the question like Bubbles did. "Actually, I do. What _do_ you find the most attractive trait?"

Bubbles raised an eyebrow, "You genuinely want to hear what I have to say?"

Dexter nodded, "Yeah, I do. Despite what I thought for the longest time—and twenty minutes ago—You actually are pretty intuitive."

Bubbles smiled uncontrollably, "Kindness. Kindness is the most attractive trait to have."

"Why kindness?"

"Having kindness in your heart means you're a good person and that you care. It's the only trait I can think of that benefits everyone in every single way without any negativity at all… Whether it's being kind to your parents and your friends, a stranger, or _even_ yourself, I think having kindness in your heart is, like, the key to a happy life," Bubbles rambled, hugging Boomer's pillow more tightly. "And allowing yourself to be open to kindness and displaying it for the world to see is just a beautiful and courageous thing to me…"

Dexter nodded, taking in every single one of her words. Another silence fell between the two as Dexter processed everything. He was starting to see how they were matched together; he just needed to piece everything together.

"I think I know why we were matched together," Dexter announced.

"You do?" Bubbles questioned with her eyes widened. She was surprised he figured it out so quickly without finishing the questions and appeared so sure about it.

"Yeah. We were matched because we balance each other. You're a kind person who is optimistic and open with your emotions; while I'm a man of intellect who is realistic and blunt."

"I would help you see the positive sides of things, while you keep me grounded," she grinned.

He nodded, "You show me it's okay to express my emotions from time to time, and I push you to put those emotions into use and speak your mind."

"And then we have the perfect mix of kindness and cleverness… Everything you lack, I have; and everything I lack, you have."

"Exactly."

Both smiled brightly at each other as they had a sense of joy for figuring it all out; but also because they were, strangely and somewhat, bonding. Upon realizing this, Dexter quickly looked away, shifting his focus back to their work and ending their moment together.

"Well, that was easy," Bubbles commented, frowning by his change in mood.

"I agree, but we still have some more work to do," he said.

Bubbles nodded, sighing disappointingly. Just when she thought they were making progress, Dexter reverted back to his usual self. As Dexter asked the next question, she wondered how Dee Dee and Boomer, and her other classmates were doing with this project.

* * *

"What is the most attractive trait?" Butch asked flatly, staring at the ceiling of his dorm to distract himself.

"Honesty," Buttercup quickly answered, slowing twirling around in his desk chair.

"I agree," Butch said as he wrote it down. They had been agreeing on almost every question for the last hour, which was freaking them both out but neither would admit it. There had also been a minimum of three fights thus far—which was a record for them in such a time span. "Alright, what is your favorite word and why?"

"The f-word because it's fucking awesome."

"I completely agree with that statement."

"Of course, you do," she mumbled, rolling her eyes. "Are you just fucking agreeing with me about everything just to finish the project? Cause if you are, that's probably the only intelligent idea you've ever had besides wanting to date Blossom."

"Unfortunately, no," Butch sighed. "According to this fucking questionnaire, we apparently have a lot in common— _Way too much_ in common."

"Whoopty-fucking-do," she quipped, spinning in a more moderate pace now.

Butch let out a small laugh, which surprised him _and_ Buttercup _,_ who stopped spinning to give him a disgusted stare. "I... A…" he stuttered, rubbing his neck. "We should move onto the next question–"

"What's the fucking point honestly? I think we already know why we're paired together."

Butch raised an eyebrow, "We do?"

"God, you're so dumb," she rubbed her temples in annoyance, "We're matched together because we're explosive people."

"Yeah, but–"

"But nothing. That's the reason, so we're done here," Buttercup interjected, standing up to leave.

"Oh no you don't," Butch shouted, getting up to block her path, crossing his arms in defiance.

She glared at him, "You do realize I can beat your ass, right?"

"Yeah—You're probably the only chick who can but I'm not moving until we finish. You're the one that wanted to do this, and I need an A, and I'm pretty sure you do too."

"Why would you say that?" she growled, inching closer to his face.

"Your little birdy also told me about your summer school experience," Butch whispered smugly as her eyes widened. He chuckled darkly at her shocked face, "Yeah, that's right. You're not the only one who she gossips with." Buttercup swore to herself that she was going to have a long conversation with Blossom later as Butch continued, "But anyways, do you know the lovely thing about being a senior? It's the fact summer school is no longer an option. You just don't graduate or you repeat." Her face shifted quickly to anger, glaring hard at him again. He just smiled cockily, leaning over to her ear, "So what will it be, _Buttercup_? We finish or you'll become a super senior?"

His deep, manipulative voice send shivers down her spine. She resisted the idea of slapping him as their green eyes dueled each other, but was also slightly impressed by his use of intimation.

"...Let's fucking finish this project," Buttercup sighed in defeat.

"I'm glad we can come to an agreement," he grinned, jumping back onto his bed and reading the next question. "Alright… What is your favorite musical act?"

"I don't fucking know. _Nirvana_ , I guess."

* * *

"What is your favorite musical act?" Blossom read as she put her hair up and then fanning herself with her hand. After having practice, the two decide to do their work on the bleachers by the football field. She was beginning to regret the decision since the sun was blistering down on them.

"Fuck. That's hard…" Brick thought as Blossom laughed a little. "I guess _J. Cole_ or _Kendrick_."

"You're into rap? Besides me, you're the whitest person here," she teased with an eyebrow raised.

"I need it to pump me up before games, alright?" he mumbled, turning his hat frontwards to block the sun from his eyes.

"Sure, whatever you say," Blossom smiled.

"And what about you?" he asked, mirroring her expression.

"Probably _Amy Winehouse_."

"I think I've listened to a couple of her songs… Maybe… Probably not."

"God, you're terrible," she laughed, writing down their answers on the questionnaire and then flipping through the previous pages. "According to the last 100 questions, we pretty much have nothing common, or at least, we can't agree on anything."

"I thought we agreed on question 23."

She flipped to the question, re-reading it again, "What is the worst fashion trend ever? I said Neon and you said flip-flops."

"Oh. I was wrong then," Brick smiled, "We fucking suck."

Blossom nodded, "In terms of this survey? Yes. Yes, we do."

"I guess I can see why. The questionnaire is pointless bullshit," Brick claimed, putting his hat backwards again—it felt too weird having it the other way, "And it's hot as balls out here."

"Welcome to California," she quipped with Brick letting out a small laugh in response. "And to tell you the truth, I think Keane gave out the questionnaire to distract us."

Brick nodded thoughtfully, "She doesn't want us to focus on the answers. It's more about the reactions to them and how we connect."

"I was just going to say she was giving us busy work," Blossom admitted, smiling sheepishly. "But you're probably right about this."

He raised an eyebrow with a smirk, "Oh? So I'm finally right about something?"

"I said _probably_ , okay? Don't get too excited."

"Whatever. I'll take it."

Blossom rolled her eyes, smiling—which was something she did for almost the entire afternoon. Even though they could not agree on anything the survey asked for, they made the most of it and they were having a good time. Blossom secretly wished the questionnaire had more pages so they could hang out a little longer.

A rosiness grew in her cheeks when she thought of this, which she shamefully hid by staring at the sun.

"God, Bloss. Didn't anyone tell you not to stare at the sun? It fucks up your eyes," Brick teased, elbowing her. She turned to him, meeting his crimson eyes. They stared into each other eyes in silence as Blossom's mouth formed a small smile. She was considered adding more pages herself.

Blossom subconscious inched closer to him, allowing their knees to touch. Blossom placed her hand on the knee closest to his'. Her outermost fingers were lightly pressing against the mesh fabric of his bastetball shorts. At the moment, to Brick, his knee felt warmer than the heat from the sun.

Blossom was not really thinking about what was happening or how it appeared. Only thing racing through her mind was the want to move her hand from her knee to his'.

Brick seemingly read her mind, his eyes daring her to do so. And she was about to–

"Yo Brick, have you seen my headphones?" his teammate called out from the bottom of the bleachers, interrupting the moment. The two quickly separated, which the teammate did not seemed to have witnessed since he was too busy searching for his headphones.

"Nope. Haven't seen them, but I would ask James. He took Andy's last week."

"Fuck, you're right. Thanks, bro," the guy yelled, running off to the dorms.

The two gingers did not say a word to each other after their interruption. Both were silently cursing to themselves for getting carried away with the moment.

Brick was the first to break the tension, looking over to her and watching as she stared down at her hands. He coughed to gain her attention, which it did.

"So…" Brick began, look over at the football field. Blossom lowered her head, waiting for the awkward conversation she did not want to have. "...There have been two occasions where I've been right about something today. I think that's a new record while being amongst your presence."

"Maybe…" Blossom grinned. She was glad he was avoiding the previous moment like she wanted to.

He cracked a smile, "I think we should leave. You're starting to turn pink."

Blossom nodded, touching her cheek. She did not want to tell him the redness was not from the sun.

"Can we go to your dorm?" Blossom asked, grabbing the questionnaire and her bag.

"Can't. Butch and Buttercup are working on their project there," Brick revealed, standing up and lending out his hand to help her up.

"I hope you have nothing breakable in there," she joked, grabbing his hand as he pulled her up.

He shrugged, grabbing his bag, "I really didn't bring anything with me, so it's whatever."

Blossom nodded, leading him down the bleachers, "We could go to my dorm, but Buttercup re-established our no boys policy—so forget everything I just said."

"That's going to last for two weeks," he bet.

"Probably so."

He chuckled, "Well, I guess that leaves us with the mess hall or the library."

"Ugh. That place is the worst," Blossom groaned, scrunching her nose. "It's so loud and dirty. And the food is revolting."

"Bloss, there's not that many places we can go. We're literally left with the library now."

She shrugged, "I mean, we could just leave campus."

"We can do that?" Brick questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Technically, no," Blossom said, smiling sheepishly, "But no one checks if you leave."

"For a person that gave me so much shit for breaking the dress code, you sure do like to break the rules here," he teased.

She rolled her eyes, "Blame my boyfriend."

"Right," he said slowly, replaying their bleacher moment in his head. "Anyways, I'm down."

"Great. I know this adorable bookstore–"

"That sounds good, but honestly, I'm fucking starving."

"There's pastries at the bookstore."

Brick rolled his eyes, "Bloss, I want actual food."

She chewed on her bottom lip nervously, "I…" Blossom did not want to get dinner together as she was afraid of how it may appear. But why should she be worried? They were just two people getting dinner together platonically. She has done it before with Boomer on a couple of occasions.

"Do you want to get dinner?" he pressed.

"You know, I'm not really _that_ hungry–"

Just as she made that claim, her stomach started rumbling aggressively. She froze in embarrassment, staring at Brick for his reaction.

"You're stomach says otherwise," Brick laughed. "We're getting dinner, alright?"

"Fine," Blossom frowned.

* * *

"Okay, so this questionnaire is basically saying that we think similarly—which I guess is true," Butch affirmed reluctantly, reading off the bulleted list they created. After finishing all of the questions and two more arguments, the dark-haired teens were trying to figure out how to write their paper. "We're both the best athletes at this school; we both are extremely blunt; we both like girls–"

"Seriously?" Buttercup groaned, throwing her hands up, "I'm into guys."

"You sure?" Butch asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow.

"I've dated/dating two-thirds of your closest guy friends," she exasperated.

"Two out four."

She raised any eyebrow, "Who's the fuck is the fourth person?"

"Brick."

"Ugh," Buttercup grimaced, twisting her face in disgust. "I can't stand that guy."

"Why?" Butch asked, taken back by her statement—so far, everyone liked Brick.

"He's so… Disgustingly _perfect_ ," Buttercup confessed.

Butch narrowed his eyes at her, willing to defend his friend, "What makes you think he's so "disgustingly perfect"?"

"Have you noticed he's already competing academically with Dexter and Blossom? Those two have been in a stalemate for valedictorian since freshmen year, and then he just waltzes in here and has a chance to take it from the both them."

"Yeah, so?" Butch questioned.

Buttercup rolled her eyes, "He's not just incredibly intelligent. He's leading the football team now—a job that should be the Quarterback's. All your teammates would rather take directions from him or hang out with him now." Butch glared at her, but he did recently notice a distance between him and his teammates. This was the first time he began to see the correlation between that and Brick. "And have you noticed he's practically a member of our "group" already, even though he's only been here for three weeks?"

"Yeah, but–"

"Butch. We haven't allowed anyone in a group since freshmen year—We wouldn't even let Mitch join until now," Buttercup stated, cutting him off.

Butch rubbed his neck, staring at the carpeting of his dorm, "... I guess you have a point."

"I know I do," she said, leaning back into the desk chair, "He's also seems super fake with his friendliness towards everyone—even Dexter."

"I still don't fucking understand that," Butch mumbled to himself.

"Me too…" Buttercup nodded, gesturing her hand towards Butch. "And to top it all off, those girls that used to be " _so crazy_ " about you, are now chasing after him."

"I can see why though," Butch commented with a smirk. "Ever since Blossom locked me up, they have been experiencing a severe drought of eye-candy."

" _Right_. That's definitely what it is," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Or maybe, it's because he's more attractive than you."

"Who the hell would think that?"

Buttercup held her tongue, not wanting to insinuate who she felt would think that. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders and said, "Half of the girl population here… But that's not the point here. The point is, I think he's too perfect… He's like you, but with fewer anger issues and more social skills. And if I can't stand you, then I sure as hell can't stand him."

Butch rolled his eyes, "Whatever, Buttercup," he dismissed. "Maybe instead of judging people, you should get to know them first."

"Yeah. That's not happening," Buttercup answered. She pulled out her phone to check the time. It was 7:17. She had been trapped in Butch's dorm room for almost three hours now. Buttercup needed to get out of here. "...We should finish the project."

"Right…" he nodded, glad that she was changing the conversation. It was getting a little _too civil_ between the two. "Okay, so I'll cross off us both liking girls, even though I think you're lying."

"Sadly, I'm not," she mumbled to herself, rolling her eyes.

"So that leaves: the questionnaire results, us being athletic, and we both are argumentative and aggressive people."

"If you ask me, those all are terrible fucking reasons to be matched except for the sports part."

"Yeah, you're right," Butch admitted, scratching his head. "Why the fuck were we even matched?"

"Because–"

Butch rolled his eyes, "Other than we're both explosive people."

"Then I don't fucking know," she shrugged. "Keane probably pretended to act like she had no clue we were matched together when actually she knew, just so we'll start getting along."

"I don't think she's that clever," he chuckled.

"Just trying to put a new spin on all of this because none of it makes any fucking sense," she sighed frustratingly.

"Shit Buttercup… I think you got it."

She gave him a questionable look, "I did?"

"Sort of— we have a list that is somewhat negative, right?" Buttercup blinked as a reply, confused. "But if we "put a new spin on" it and make the negatives more positive, then we can write our paper and meet a passable grade."

"So we're faking the assignment?" Buttercup questioned with an impressed grin. Butch nodded, grabbing some paper, "That sounds fucking great to me."

"I'm starting to believe I'm too smart for this shit."

* * *

"What can I get you, hun?" A waitress asked Brick. She appeared to be at least in her mid-fifties with too much eyeshadow on and had a deep smoker's voice. According to the name tag on her uniform, her name was Lisa.

Brick and Blossom ended up going to a 1950's retro diner Brick noticed on his way to the Academy—much to Blossom's protest.

"I'll have a double cheeseburger with pepper jack cheese, bacon, jalapenos, and hot sauce, a side of cajun fries and the chocolate-covered cherry milkshake," he ordered, handing his menu to the waitress. Blossom scrunched her nose in disgust at his order. Apparently Brick had an acquired taste for spicy food.

Lisa nodded, "And you, darling?"

"I'll have a California club with extra avocado and a glass of water."

"Do you want fries with that?" Lisa asked, raising an eyebrow.

Blossom shook her head, "Nope. That's it."

"Alrighty. Give me a holler if you need anything else," Lisa replied, grabbing Blossom's menu and heading back to the kitchen. Brick watched her leave before turning to Blossom.

"Did you really just said no to fries? Cause that's, like, inhumane."

"It's too many carbs for me," she confessed, shrugging. "I'm a dancer and I want to pursue it professional; I have to be self-conscious about what I eat."

"Well if you ask me, you have nothing to be self-conscious about. _At all_ ," he complimented, smiling warmly at her.

Blossom felt her cheeks beginning to warm as she chewed on her bottom lip to prevent her from saying anything she would regret, or get caught up in another strange moment.

Brick watched as she did this, taking in her appearance. Her hair was held up by the same cherry red bow he joked about a week ago and she remained in a red sports bra and black yoga pants from practice. Blossom seemed to have gotten some sun lately as her porcelain skin was graced with a pink tint.

She looked as if she had just finished running a marathon, but Brick thought she looked gorgeous.

Brick's eyes widened as this thought came to his mind. He should not be thinking she was gorgeous. She was his roommate's girlfriend. Brick tried to erase the thought from his mind by distracting himself.

"Do you want to finish the questionnaire while we wait?" Brick asked, folding his arms and laying them on the table.

Blossom shrugged her shoulders, "Not really… like you said. Maybe the assignment is more about getting to know each other more than the questions themselves."

"So what? You want to get to know each other better?"

"That actually sounds really good," Blossom replied. She was actually happy about doing this. Even though they hung out a couple of times on their own, there was a lot Blossom did not know about Brick, and the same goes for him. She was interested in seeing why Brick was the way he was. "Where should we start?"

"Good question." Brick said, rubbing his chin in thought. "I guess we start with the basic stuff. Like where we grew up, family life. That type of shit."

"Okay," She laughed a little. "So let's see… I was born in a Burgundy, France–"

"Oh, Bonjour then."

Blossom rolled her eyes in response, chuckling, "Anyways, my dad was the French ambassador to the US, so we moved here when I was three. We lived in Washington D.C. until my dad retired when I was ten. After that, we became naturalized citizens and moved to Manhattan. And that's was where I lived until coming to Townsville," she revealed as the waitress finally came out with their drinks.

"Can't stay in one place, huh?" he joked, taking a sip of his milkshake.

"I guess," she shrugged, grinning a little.

"Why did you come to Townsville?"

"I needed a break from my parents," Blossom shrugged, "And the Academy has one of the most competitive high school dance programs."

"Smart decision," Brick commented, thinking back to when they danced at that party. She had complete control of the dance floor and left him in awe.

"Yeah… But that's not the half of it."

He raised an eyebrow, "Oh? It's not?"

"Nope…" Blossom smiled sheepishly, "Have you ever heard of Se Leva Bread?"

"The huge French fast food chain? Yeah," Brick nodded. "Their chocolate croissants are my shit."

"Well… You see… My parents are the founders," Blossom confessed quietly before drinking some of her water.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Brick's eyes immediately widened, "Isn't the franchise worth, like, almost a billion dollars?"

Blossom nodded, "Yeah… It started when my mom grew bored of being a housewife, so she started a catering business. Which turned into a café that then later became Se Leva Bread. Before we knew it, hundreds of them can be found all over the world."

"I can't fucking believe that," Brick said, rubbing his temples and trying to comprehend what she was telling him. "You're a fucking billionaire."

" _Technically._ My parents are the billionaires. I just get the perks of it."

"Still… Fuck man, your life is like a thousand times better than mine."

"What do you mean?" Blossom asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, first off, my family is fucking poor. Like, living check to check, scraping money and searching the couch cushions, living off of food stamps and welfare, poor," Brick admitted, combing his hair underneath his hat. "I've already told you, it was just my mom and I. It's been that way since I was about one. My parents never married and my mom kicked him out after a few physical altercations."

"Oh my god," Blossom gasped, covering her mouth in shock.

"It's not that big of a deal anymore, Bloss," Brick replied.

"Is too. No man should put their hands on a women."

"It wasn't a one-sided thing. Women can get physical too," Brick mumbled, looking away from her, "I'm just glad my mom left when she did… After that, I've never seen or heard from my dad-"

"Does that bother you?" she asked, wanting to grab and hold his hand just to comfort him. Instead, she briefly touched his forearm and met his eyes. She smiled sympathetically at him, focusing on him and only him.

"It used too, but I've learned how to deal with. Now, I just don't give a shit," he revealed, feeling somewhat relieved. This was the first time he spoke about the subject with anyone—he had not even done so with his mom. And Brick probably should have had this conversation with his mom first, but there was just something about Blossom that made it easier to talk to her instead.

Blossom nodded attentively, "I'm glad. It's his lost anyways."

"Exactly… Sorry for my sob story," he chuckled.

"It's fine. I like learning more about you," she smiled.

Brick smiled back, continuing, "...Anyways, I grew up on the south side of Boston. Lived in the same house since I was born. My mom has worked three jobs since I was ten while I focused on football." He paused to take a sip of his milkshake. It was starting to melt because they were talking too much. "At my old school, I was most likely going to become the valedictorian but I decided to come here–"

"Why _did_ you come here, by the way? It's kind of really late to do so."

" _Well_ , I wanted to come here since my freshmen counselor told me about it, but I could never afford the application fee until last year," he explained. "Townsville Academy was the best option for myself and my future. The biggest college that people go to at my old school is _UMass_ , which is a fine school, but I didn't see myself making any progress there. This place could get me to whatever school I want—Townsville Academy is basically my escape from poverty."

"Wow," Blossom replied in awe, "I would never would have guessed any of this."

"Why not?"

"You're just so well put together."

"I don't see how that correlates with anything, but thanks," he smirked.

Blossom rolled her eyes, grinning, "I mean, you don't seem like someone that's had a rough life. Honestly, on your first day, I thought you were this Mid-Western, white guy from an All-American family that takes an annual Christmas card picture in matching sweaters."

"I guess you shouldn't judge a book by it's cover then," Brick grinned, meeting her eyes.

Blossom mirrored his expression, "I _definitely_ shouldn't."

Brick opened his mouth to reply, but Lisa interrupted them to bring out their food. They thanked her and adjusted themselves to begin eating. Brick reached over the table for the salt and ketchup, while Blossom picked up one-half of her sandwich. Just as she was about to take a bite, her phone went off.

She read the text that appeared on her screen and rolled her eyes, while Brick shook some salt over his fries.

"Who is it?"

"Butch," she sighed, "Buttercup and him finished and now he wants me to meet him at the agricultural building."

Brick thought back to Butch saying the agricultural building was the best place to hook up. He felt a little bit envious when thinking about it. Brick cursed at himself for even allowing himself to have such a feeling. He was starting to feel disgusted with himself—just a little.

He watched as she put her phone away without replying. Brick raised an eyebrow, "Aren't you going to answer him?" he asked before taking a bite of his burger.

She shook her head, "No. I'm not in the mood for that or Butch right now… Besides, I'm having a good time with you."

Brick smiled to himself as he wiped his mouth with a paper napkin, "Speaking of Butch. How the fuck did you two end up together?"

She took a bite of her sandwich, swallowing, and shrugged, "Ever since freshmen year, he was the one guy all the girls wanted and I was the one girl all the guys wanted. It was basically destined we would end up liking each other, which is what happened to Butch at the end of our first year. He constantly tried flirting and impressing me but I wasn't into it since he had been with a lot of girls beforehand and still was when he was trying to woo me. But he kept trying to prove himself to me and I cracked at the end of sophomore year and gave him a chance." She stopped to take a sip of her water, "I didn't think it would have lasted this long, you know? I thought it only be a month and then he would have moved onto another girl or he would stick it out until we had sex. And before I knew it, we had been together for six months and we… _done things_ …so I realized he wasn't the player I thought he was and we been together since," Blossom finished grinning, focusing her attention on her sandwich.

"How _romantic_ ," Brick quipped, stuffing fries into his mouth.

"Yeah. Butch tells the story better than I do," Blossom mumbled, taking a bite of her food. She then flipped her hair and smiled devilishly at Brick, "And what about you?"

"What do you mean? Like my relationships?" She nodded, "I'm single."

"I already know that," Blossom grinned. "I'm talking about your history. I'm _sure_ a guy like you is rarely single."

" _Actually,_ embarrassingly–well it's not embarrassing, but it kind of is–I've never been in a relationship before."

"You can't be serious?" Blossom questioned in disbelief. She figured that the girls at his old school would have been constantly fighting with each other for a chance to date him. Most of the girls at the Academy were already doing such.

"I am. I was too focused on school and football… But I did hook up with a decent amount of girls," Brick smiled sheepishly.

"You were like pre-relationship Butch, weren't you?"

Brick nodded slowly, "Pretty much, yeah."

"You're terrible," Blossom joked, throwing a crumpled napkin at him. Brick let it hit his face while he rolled his eyes playful.

"Maybe… But it also did not help that I didn't really like anyone at my old school."

"Now you're lying. There had to be someone you liked," Blossom argued, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean, there was, like, maybe, two girls I was into... I think one of them moved away and the other one didn't know I liked her until she got a boyfriend—which makes absolutely no sense to me because I feel like I'm pretty obvious when I like someone," Brick confessed, taking the last sip of his milkshake.

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged, "When I'm vibing with someone, that's the only person I'm going focus my attention on. Plus, I flirt _hardcore_ with them, too— Like, it's pathetic how bad and obvious it is."

"See, I'm the exact opposite. I don't like people knowing how I feel about them until I'm one hundred percent sure about everything. So like, I don't let anyone know I liked them or flirt with them until I know I'm really into them," Blossom explained. "It would make guys so mad because I wouldn't flirt until months later—They started called me "Ice Queen" because of it—even Butch once called me that."

"I don't really see you as being an "Ice Queen"," Brick said, making her smile a bit. He smiled back and then looked down at his watch, "Shit. It's eight."

"So? Do you have a curfew or something?" Blossom quipped.

"Haha, very funny," Brick replied sarcastically, "I said shit because it's eight and we still haven't finished our project, and we're presenting tomorrow."

Blossom's eyes widened in panic, "Oh my God. I completely forgot about that."

"I know… Shit. We don't really have anything to write about."

"We have to figure out something."

Brick nodded, mulling over everything him and Blossom talked about that day; in addition, he thought about other conversations they've had in the past. Slowly but surely, the answer came to him.

"I think I got it."

"You do?" Blossom asked, relieved.

"I do. I'll write the paper tonight."

"Thank God. You're the amazing, Brick."

"Of course, I am," Brick chuckled, feeling a little too happy with her saying that.

* * *

The following morning, Bubbles waited by the fountain in the courtyard for Boomer. The two met there every morning for a quick make out session before class, but Bubbles felt anxious whenever she thought about him that morning.

She did not sleep much the night before because of a text Robin sent her. Robin was Dee Dee's roommate, and according to her, Dee Dee did not come back to their dorm until ten last night.

To make it worst, after finishing with Dexter, Bubbles tried to reach out to Boomer, but he never answered a single text or call.

All of these factors made her extremely suspicious and also devastated by there being a chance Boomer did something the night before.

Bubbles tried rehearsing what she wanted to say to him, but by the time he showed up, she completely forgot whatever she was going to say.

"Hey, Bubs," Boomer greeted happily, snaking his arms around her waist. He kissed her lightly while Bubbles deepened it—She was not sure if this would be the last time or not. "Woah! Someone in a frisky mood this morning. I like it," he said, placing his forehand onto her's.

She smiled softly, staring at the fountain next to them, "... So how did your project with Dee Dee go?"

"It went well," he shrugged, wrapping his finger in one of her curls. "I can see why we were a match."

"Why is that?" Bubbles asked quietly, bracing herself for whatever was about to happen.

"She's very similar to you… Personality wise." She nodded, not saying anything. Boomer stared at her with concerned eyes, "What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong…" Bubbles mumbled, "I just want to know why you and Dee Dee were together until ten last night."

"Wait. What?" Boomer asked, completely confused by what she was saying.

"Please don't make me repeat myself," Bubbles pleaded.

"Babe, me and Dee Dee finished at, like, four yesterday. After that, she went to the dance room to practice."

"Oh my god… I'm such an idiot," Bubbles thought out loud, as Boomer instantly jogged her memory. "Dee Dee did tell me two weeks ago she had a recital to practice for and was staying out late to do so. Ugh. How I could be so dumb?"

"Bubbles, why–"

"But that still doesn't answer why I wasn't able to reach you? You completely ignored me yesterday," Bubbled addressed, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Yeah… About that. I dropped my phone in the pool after practice," Boomer confessed, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Why didn't you tell me? I was worried sick."

"You were? Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I was going to tell you, but by the time I got to my dorm, you were gone and I got distracted by Dexter yelling at me for not keeping the room clean and then I knocked out and completely forgot until now," Boomer explained, feeling guilty for making her worry.

"Boomy, you need to be more responsible," Bubbles laughed lightly.

"I know, I know," he smiled, happy to see her in a good mood now but was still concern about why Bubbles seemed down before and was questioning him. "... So why were you concerned about Dee Dee and me?"

"It's dumb," she sighed.

"Nothing you have to say is ever dumb, Bubs."

Bubbles smiled at his comment, "I was just nervous that you and Dee Dee would bond and connect more than we do. I mean, everyone is always saying how much we are a perfect match but Ms. Keane said we aren't and I started to believe that. I'm sorry I got caught up in all of that and thought you would ever do anything."

Boomer lifted her chin with his finger, staring down into her sky-blue eyes, "Bubbles, I don't care what everyone or Ms. Keane or some stupid personality test says, because to me, I already know in my heart, you're my perfect match and that's all that matters."

"Boomy, stop. You're going to make me cry," Bubbles smiled, placing her hand over his, "And to me, you're my perfect match too."

"I'm glad we can meet some common ground."

* * *

"...And that is why Dexter and I are a match," Bubbles finished, smiling at her classmates after their presentation. The whole class clapped—with Boomer being the loudest—as the pair sat back down.

"Thank you, Dexter and Miss. Lopez. You two were spot on for why we're matched," Ms. Keane said, writing down their presentation grade. "Alright. Next, we have Miss. Blanchette and Brick."

Blossom sighed heavily as the two walked to the front of the room. She loved public speaking, but she was actually nervous this time. This was mainly because Brick said he would write the paper—which he did—but never showed her it. She tried to get him to show her in their Chemistry class but they had a test and the football team had a meeting during lunch, so she had no clue what they were presenting. Blossom just hoped Brick knew what he was doing.

"Go Babe," Butch hollered, gaining a glare from Ms. Keane and Buttercup.

Blossom smiled at him and then nervously at the rest of the class, rubbing her palms along the fabric of her skirt. She turned to Brick, waiting for him to start but instead he leaned over to her ear.

"You start," He whispered

She looked at him like he was a crazy person, "Brick, I don't know what to say."

"Say whatever. I got this. Just trust me, alright?" Brick reassured, to which Blossom reluctantly agreed to.

She turned back to the class, who were all staring at them and wondering what was wrong. Blossom smiled anxiously at them again and began, "So um, while doing this project, Brick and I didn't necessarily understand why we were matched. We did the questionnaire to see and we literally didn't agree on anything. So we were sort of stagnant for awhile—clueless about anything and everything–"

"That was exactly how we were," Brick chimed, cutting her off. He smiled at her as she took a step back to let him talk. She _really_ hoped Brick knew what he was doing, "It was hard for us to see how we're a match because we are two completely different people. She grew up with a lavish and privileged lifestyle, I come from a low-income family; She is well-traveled, I have never left Boston until a month ago; She likes to keep her true feelings private and analyze a situation before committing to anything; I like to express myself without a second thought."

"You can see our dilemma," Blossom added.

Brick smirked at her and then focused back on the class, "So when we looked at it that way, it seemed like we were complete opposites… But then, we started thinking more into it, ignoring the useless questionnaire," he smiled sheepishly at Ms. Keane, "And then we recognized some similar qualities. Blossom and I are both extremely independent and highly motivated people. We both individually are a perfect mix of a scholar and an athlete. We're not afraid to be who we are or say what we want—We are natural born leaders."

"Yes," Blossom agreed, taking a step next to Brick and smiling confidently. "We are."

"So you see, we were matched because not only do we complement each other by who we are and what we believe in, but we also balance each other out by our values and experiences that has led us to be who are today," Brick explained, grinning at Blossom. "Plus, we're apart of the rare 1% of gingers."

The class laughed at his remark and began clapping again as the two headed back towards their respective desks.

"That was spectacular, Brick," Blossom whispered when they sat down. "That was the best BS-ing I've ever seen."

"Thanks," he whispered back, frowning a little. "But I wasn't–"

"Okay. The last group for today is Buttercup and Butch," Ms. Keane announced, silencing the class. "Please remember I'm grading your presentation, so no fighting of any kind with be tolerated."

"Come on Keane, have a little faith in us," Butch chimed while Buttercup rolled her eyes. The two stared out to their classmates who were all bracing themselves for anything.

Buttercup glared at all them, folding her arms, "Butch and I were matched because we complement each other."

Butch nodded, mirroring her standing without noticing, "You all might not believe it, but Buttercup and I pretty much agreed with each other on everything on our questionnaire."

"Holy crap," Ms. Keane whispered to herself in disbelief, which the rest of the class also did.

"As freaky as it is, it proved to Butch and I, how much we have in common," Buttercup continued. "We think similarly."

"We both value honesty over anything."

"We're passionate about whatever we do and will fight until the end for it. We also try to make the best out of any situation, even if it seems to only provide negativity."

"We're the best athletes this school has ever seen."

"We are both comfortable with who we are and are willingly to work on ourselves to be the best version of ourselves."

"And we're just two badass people," Butch added, smirking to himself. Their audience was in disbelief by them getting along for this long. It was a totally twilight zone moment for everyone. "That's it."

Ms. Keane was the first to clap, jumping out of her seat, "Oh my God. I think this was the first time I've seen you get along," she grinned. "I'm so proud."

The rest of the class joined her in clapping but stopping shortly due to the bell ringing to dismiss them. Like the Monday before, Buttercup, Butch, and Ms. Keane were the only ones left in the classroom.

"I'm completely serious. I am so proud that you were able to work things out and work together," Ms. Keane admitted, grabbing her stuff. Both teens stared at her with an eyebrow raised, "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but you both are, for sure, getting an A on this project. Congratulations."

Both thanked her as she left the room, leaving them alone again. They both folded their arms and stared each other down.

"This was a one-time deal, alright?"

Buttercup nodded, "Don't talk to me for, like, a month. Got it?"

"It will be my pleasure" Butch agreed, rubbing his hands together. "Now that this miserable project is over, I can get my reward from Blossom."

Buttercup watched as he excitedly walked away. She rolled her eyes and was relieved she did not have to deal with him anymore.

However, she could not ignore the unexplainable sense of sadness she felt in her chest as he left the room.


	4. The Future Is Now

"It's pretty obvious as this is your senior year, everyone in this classroom is on the verge of making huge life decisions. Am I correct?" Ms. Keane asked as her students nodded in reply. Each student glanced at the classmate next to them anxiously, not really wanting to think about the uncertainties of their future. "You're doing applications for college, figuring out what you want major in, how you want to spend your college years; but most of all, what do you want to do with your lives," Ms. Keane paused, taking a sip of the water from the bottle on her desk, "This is all true—But that is not the lesson for the week." The class unanimous let out a sigh of relief. "Instead, we're going to discuss and write desires we have when planning out our futures-"

"What if we haven't planned out anything for our future?" Mitch asked, gaining a few judgemental stares from those around him—mainly from Dexter.

"That's fine, Mitch. It doesn't necessary have to focus on your future. The lesson is mainly about figuring out the desires you have and how they might be or not be achievable." Some student narrowed their eyes at Ms. Keane, not understand what she was explaining—especially Boomer. "I see a lot of confused faces, so I'll explain more. The assignment is to write about one thing you want the most at this moment—whether it's getting into a certain college, having a steady income, or a particular profession-" Blossom nodded, feeling as if Ms. Keane was speaking to her directly. "—And then write about the challenges that you might face trying to achieve what you want."

"Um, what exactly is the point of this assignment?" Butch questioned.

Ms. Keane exhaled deeply, realizing there will never be a class period where someone does not question her assignments.

"The point is to either encourage yourself to pursue a desire and see how you might be able to achieve it, or how you should move onto a new desire and rethink why you might have believed you wanted the first desire to begin with."

Butch rolled his eyes, leaning back into his chair stubbornly, "Your assignments always confuse the hell out me, Keane."

"That's too bad, Butch," Ms. Keane deadpanned, earning a few laughs from the room. "Does everyone else get the assignment?" The class nodded. "Good. Your paper is due Thursday with no specific word count."

The class luckily hid their groans as the bell rang to dismiss them. The students all swiftly stood, collecting their stuff and heading for the door.

Ms. Keane looked around at her, now, shrinking class until her eyes landed on the redhead she was in search for.

"Mr. Adams. Can I speak to you for a moment?" Ms. Keane asked, interrupting the conversation Blossom and Brick were having.

"Ooo, _somebody_ is in trouble," Blossom sang on her way towards the door where Butch stood patiently. The couple quickly kissed as Butch put his arm around her shoulder—Brick ignored the stir in his chest he felt from watching the two kiss. Blossom turned to wave back at Brick before disappearing into the hallway.

Brick disheartenedly walked over to Ms. Keane's desk.

Ms. Keane smiled kindly and began, "Brick, since you just transfered, I unfortunately do not know what writing strategy would work best for you. But, um, I've been noticing that generally all of your work has seem, well, dull and forced," Ms. Keane admitted, shifting to a sheepish smile.

Brick nodded, kind of already aware of what she was saying.

"Writing isn't my strong suit," he shrugged, and that was the truth. Brick was never good with explaining himself in written word, as he was better at it verbally. Plus, he never was into English classes, preferring the math and science curriculum instead.

"Your writing skills are not the problem here, Brick. The problem is your voice and storytelling," she explained. "I'm never excited to read your paper nor do I ever feel any rise of emotions—and we've done some pretty emotional topics thus far."

"I guess I'm just not a storyteller," Brick said, trying to brush off the fact that Ms. Keane was calling him boring.

"No. I think it's more because you are holding back," Ms. Keane argued. "You need to dig deeper and let yourself write the full, unrestricted truth. If you do that, you'll have a much more interesting paper—and a much more satisfied English teacher."

"Dig deeper…" Brick mumbled to himself and then sighed, "Alright."

"Good. I want you to try doing that on this assignment," she smiled. "I cannot wait to see the results."

* * *

"Have you seen _UCLA_ 's application yet? I feel like I have no chance in getting in," Bubbles announced upon arriving to the group's picnic table. "I should just go to community college."

"I'll be damned if you go to community college, Bubs," Blossom commented, folding her eyebrows in disgust. "Plus, _UCLA_ would be lucky to have you."

"Thanks, Blossom. You're probably right—I'm just concerned there will be way too many people that are better than me, you know?"

"Wait. Since when do you want to go to _UCLA_?" Boomer asked, nudging his girlfriend's shoulder.

"Since we had the college fair last year. Remember? I fell in love with their art program."

"Yeah, I remember that," Boomer replied, scratching at his head. "But I thought we were going to _San Diego State_ together?"

"I mean, that's my back up. _UCLA_ is my dream now."

"But there's, like, no way I can get in there, Bubs," Boomer frowned. "We're supposed to go to the same college together."

Bubbles mirrored his expression, beginning to understand his frustration. At the Academy, they saw each other every single day, but if they go to separate colleges, then what could happen? Bubbles knew that if that happened, she would miss Boomer too much to even function properly.

"You're right," Bubbles pouted. "I would be miserable without you." Buttercup gagged a little at Bubbles' mushiness, making Brick and Butch chuckle. "And I don't want to do long distance."

"What's wrong with long distance?" Butch chimed.

"Most of the time, they don't work out," Bubbles replied. "It's too risky."

Butch rolled his eyes, "They don't work because people like you have this preconception about it. Instead, you should try it without any hesitations." Butch smiled at Blossom, "Like Blossom and I."

"Am I the only one surprised that Butch used "preconception" correctly in a sentence?" Brick quipped instantly, almost like a reflex, gaining a few laughs around the table and a glare from Butch. He did not know exactly why he decided to make a joke during a conversation he was not apart of. Perhaps it was because he was uncomfortable with the subject matter.

"So you're doing long-distance?" Buttercup asked skeptically, ignoring Brick, and focusing on Blossom's reaction―which like usual, was emotionless.

Butch nodded, "I'm going to kickass in the soccer program at _Berkeley_ , while Blossom becomes the hottest doctor ever at _Princeton_."

"You're such the dream couple," Buttercup deadpanned.

"So you have no problem being away from each other?" Bubbles asked, looking at the couple curiously.

"Nope. We would be doing our own thing like we do here-" Buttercup snorted at his comment, making Butch briefly glare at her. "-and then meet up on the holidays and summer break."

Bubbles nodded, turning to Boomer, "Do you think we can do that?"

"I guess we could but—"

"Maybe you should figure this out in privacy," Buttercup said, staring frustratingly at the couple, "I would _really_ like to eat my lunch without hearing " _Oh, I can't live without you_ " talk."

Bubbles blinked at Buttercup's comment, standing up and narrowing her eyes at the dark-haired girl. She opened her mouth to reply, but instead walked away from the table with Boomer chasing after her. The others at the table stared at Buttercup, not pleased with her actions.

Buttercup rolled her eyes, "Oh come on. Someone had to say it."

* * *

Blossom felt a cool breeze hit her neck as she tightly wrapped her long, strawberry blonde hair in a bun. Using her red ribbon, she habitually formed a bow around her hair. Now that she had her hair fixed, Blossom started to complete a routine of stretches while she waited for the rest of the cheerleading team.

She had come to practice early to relieve some of her tensions by exercising alone. Sitting on the crisp, green grass, Blossom began to do hamstring stretches. She exhaled deeply and closed her eyes, extending her reach to her right foot as the sun warmed the crown of her head. Blossom inhaled and exhaled again, switching over to her other foot.

At that moment, Blossom could feel all the stress in her body slowly vanishing. She opened her eyes and began to shift to another style of stretches, but got distracted by the clouds in the sky. Blossom rested her head on the grass, staring up at the different shapes of white fluff in the sky, sighing blissfully.

She was totally tranquil.

"You just _really_ love staring at the sun, don't you?"

Blossom raised her head to see a grinning Brick standing before her. She smiled at him, rolling her eyes and lowering her head again.

"No. I just wanted to look at the clouds."

"They are pretty crazy today," Brick acknowledged, staring up at them with her. He joined her on the ground, laying right next to her. He pointed towards the sky, "That one kind of looks like a turtle."

Blossom glanced over to where he pointed to and raised an eyebrow, "Brick… That looks nothing like a turtle," she laughed.

"See. If you squinted your eyes hard enough and tilt your head a little to the left… it totally does," he directed, laughing a little.

Blossom followed his directions and saw no difference, "It so doesn't," Blossom argued, turning to her side to face him.

"So does," Brick stated, shifting onto his side too.

Blossom smiled brightly at him, trying not to notice the small distance between the two of them. She asked why he was on the field already—football practice did not start for any other twenty minutes, just like the cheerleaders.

"I'm always here early," Brick admitted, pulling on the grass next to him. "I like to get as much practice time as I can get. Got to the best player on the field. right?"

"God, you're so _obsessed_ with football," she teased, smiling.

"Have to be if I want to go pro," he smiled, wiping away some sweat from his forehead.

Blossom raised an eyebrow, "And what are you going to do if that doesn't happen?"

"Are you trying to say I can't do it?" Brick questioned, mirroring her expression. "Are you doubting me?"

"No, No," she said, shaking her head. "I'm just curious to whether you have a backup plan or not. Most people here don't—not even Butch." She lowered her eyes on the grass, inspecting each blade, "He has his heart set on playing soccer at the _Olympics_ yet he doesn't know what he'll do if he doesn't―or what to do afterwards too."

"No wonder he can't throw a ball. He used to only using his feet instead of his hands," Brick quipped.

Blossom rolled her eyes playfully, "Hey, he might not know how to throw a football but he does know how to use his hands. _Very well, actually._ "

"Oh God, too much information, Bloss. Too much information," he laughed despite feeling the same stir in his chest from before.

Blossom's cheeks instantly grew red, focusing on the grass again, "Whatever…"

Brick laughed a little bit more at her reaction before calming down and said, "Lawyer."

"What?"

"If being a football player doesn't work out, I want to be a lawyer," Brick answered. "Mainly for lower income families."

"That's… _so cute_."

Brick chuckled, "Thanks, _doctor."_

"Doctor?" Blossom folded her eyebrows, confused. "Why would―Oh yeah. Butch talked about it today," she mumbled.

Brick raised his eyebrow, "Yeah, he did―But hey, I thought you told me that you wanted to pursue professional dancing?"

"I do," Blossom nodded.

"So are you going to be a dancing doctor?" Brick joked. "That's a first."

"Yup," Blossom puffed, appearing annoyed.

Brick could see she wanted to change the conversation, so he dropped the subject and just nodded, pulling on the grass some more.

"So um… Why _are_ you here so early?" he asked in order to relieve the slight awkwardness in the air. "...That's actually why I came over here. I was going to ask you when I got here, but I, um–"

Blossom raised her eyebrow, lifting her gaze from the grass to his crimson eyes, "Got distracted?"

"Yeah…" he nodded slowly. "Like I said, those clouds are pretty crazy today."

"Right…" Blossom felt her cheeks warm up again. "And to answer your question, I needed some alone time, so I came here… I've kind of been stressed lately."

Blossom chose not to reveal as to why she was stressed, nor hint at the correlation it had to Ms. Keane's questions about the future. She was so close to almost snapping on Brick, even though it was not his fault for questioning about her preferences in career choices. Blossom already heard enough of those questions from her parents and having to follow their plans for her. She was so sick of hearing what others have planned for her. Yet, Blossom cannot find the courage to tell her parents the truth of her desires to be a dancer or make a clear decision towards her future; however, Blossom knew she had to make the decision soon due to applications for colleges being a number one priority right now. The choice Blossom had to make was what frustrated her to new extremes lately.

"Shit, Bloss," Brick said, sitting up and folding his arms over his knees. "You should have told me you wanted to be to alone instead of letting me fucking annoy you."

Blossom shook her head, "You weren't annoying me, Brick."

Brick smiled at her, "Good, 'cause you weren't annoying me either."

Blossom rolled her eyes, grinning and shifting to her back again, "Whatever, Brick."

A silence fell between the two as they stared at the clouds again. They stayed like this until they heard some giggling in the distance and a few guys shouting at each other—which only meant one thing; the football and cheerleading teams were coming. Brick and Blossom instantly rushed to their feet, wiping off bits of grass from their clothes. Exchanging quick goodbyes, the two joined their respective teams, hoping to themselves that no one noticed them together or question it if they did.

* * *

Brick took a deep breath, getting comfortable in his desk chair and opening the notebook in front of him. Putting pen to paper, he thought of what to write.

 _"Dig deeper and let yourself write the full, unrestricted truth..."_

Brick sighed, putting his pen down and rubbing at his eyes out of frustration. What the hell was Ms. Keane try to get out of him? Sure, for most of his assignments, Brick bullshitted his response due to being cautious on how he would appear to Ms. Keane and his classmates.

The only assignment Brick ever wrote where he was 100% geniune about, was the personality test paper he did with Blossom. And that was because Brick just wrote down whatever came to him, not really thinking about what he was writing…

Maybe that was what Ms. Keane was hinting at when talking about the " _unrestricted truth"_. Perhaps Brick had to stop worrying about what he said and shamelessly wrote whatever he felt.

Taking a deep breath again, Brick's pen connected with his notebook paper, and he began writing. Brick let his hand move freely, not taking in mentally anything he was writing, only noticing how many lines he wrote in his sloppy handwriting. It was as if he had an outer body experience as Brick felt he had no true say in what has been written―it was all his subconscious doing.

By the time he reached the end of the page, Brick stopped to read what he wrote. Silently, he shifted his eyes to the top of paper, reading the first sentence.

 _ **What I desire the most at this very moment is not even a possession nor should be treated as one but seems unattainable just like one would be.**_

Brick rolled his eyes at how pretentious he sounded―maybe Dexter was starting to rub off on him.

 _ **There are other things I could and should be focusing on―like my dreams of playing in the NFL or getting into an Ivy League school―but somehow, I am writing about this.**_

 _ **Anyways, if I could have anything right now, it would to be Blossom's boyfriend. As complicated and childish it might sound, I cannot help what I truly feel. In just a month's span, Blossom has gone from being a complete stranger to someone whose smile could literally just brighten my day.**_

 _ **It is like she is the sun and I'm the fool that cannot stop staring.**_

 ** _Blossom is probably the most intelligent person I have ever met―and that's just not book smarts. She is intuitive, witty, and cunning―which oddly, is kind of a turn-on. But Blossom is more than her brains. I could talk to her for hours without any hesitations on what I say. With her, I can be completely open. Not to mention, she is a fantastic dancer and can do the best somersault I have ever witnessed._ _And I do not even care that she is absolutely gorgeous, because if she was not, I would still feel how I do. I am_ _attracted to the person, not the beauty. I am totally getting completely cheesy here and there is still so much I want to know about her, but I just cannot helping feeling like Blossom and I have this connection._**

 _ **However, I cannot be her boyfriend because she already has one, who just so happens to be my close friend and roommate. They are also planning on go long-distance after graduation. So, I guess I entered the game way too late.**_

 _ **What exactly is the point of liking someone that is already in love with someone else?**_

Re-reading his essay fifteen more times, Brick was flabbergasted by what the paper said. What exactly did he write?

If this is what his subconscious wrote, then that meant Brick had feelings for Blossom. But that could not be. Blossom and him were strictly platonic. Sure, her smile did brighten his day but so did Bubbles―the blonde's cheery personality was completely infectious. Blossom was incredibly intelligent but so was Dexter. Brick did think Blossom was gorgeous but everyone else did too.

Brick took a minute to look over the essay once more, realizing he was making excuses for some parts...but the others―they were impossible to deny.

He thought back to when he first met Blossom. When she poked his hat, leaving an inches of space between the two.

To the party on his first night. The semi-flirtatious conversation they had. Blossom pulling him onto the dance floor. They took a photo together shortly afterward. Blossom was freaking out about the picture since she appeared sweaty and her hair had a few fly aways. Brick remembered staring at her phone, taking in everything in the photo and seeing no flaws. Only thing he noticed was how beautiful and happy Blossom looked. Brick also remembered how he wished to be as beautiful as her—which probably meant he should not drink so much alcohol in such a short span of time.

Brick thought about how Blossom―and Butch―convinced him to join the football team. He remembered the two watching the sunset, feeling at ease by the silent moment they shared.

The sunset memory reminded him of when the duo worked on their project. The blistering heat on them but they were enjoying each other's presences the whole time. Then there was Blossom almost creeping onto his leg and their diner "date" when they got to know each better.

Brick thought about when he spotted her a few hours earlier, watching the clouds and how he immediately joined her without giving a second thought to it, and the minimum amount of space shared between the two.

To Ms. Keane's class that day too, when he felt a stir of emotions when watching Blossom and Butch kiss... And now that he thinks of it, Brick has always been envious when Blossom or Butch talked about or showed affection towards each other.

Brick also began to grasped the fact almost every conversation between the two had a flirtatious aspect. How he could not, so far, go a day without talking to her.

All of this spelled out a clear answer to him. It meant that Brick liked Blossom.

 _A lot._

He has probably liked her since the first day; he has just been repressing it because of Butch. But now, Brick was fully aware.

He was totally fucked.

Not only was Blossom completely unavailable, her boyfriend happens to be the guy Brick slept ten feet away from. There was no chance Brick could do anything with his complicated feelings. No way Brick can be vocal or express them like he would do when he usually liked someone.

It also did not help when Brick realized he told Blossom to stay with Butch just a couple of weeks ago. In hindsight, he made a very terrible idea.

Maybe he did not like Blossom. Maybe Brick was just lusting after her and was confusing it as something else.

Brick looked back to his essay, taking in every word again, shaking his head.

There was no way it was lust. It seemed Brick truly did have feelings for Blossom. Feelings he wished would just dissipate.

Because, again, what exactly is the point of liking someone that is already in love with someone else?

While Brick was utterly conflicted by the revelation within himself, he knew there was no chance this paper would be given to Ms. Keane.

Instead, Brick torn the paper into what seemed like millions of pieces of paper, making sure none of it was legible and throwing them into the trash can under his desk. He then turned back to his notebook, shaking his head in an attempt to forget everything for now in order to give a second try at writing. But this time, Brick was no longer going to give the full, unrestricted truth.

* * *

A small ruby-encrusted lobster stared into Butch's dark green eyes. It's black, beady eyes searching into his soul. Butch swore he has never seen the tiny creature before, and also found it more creepy than the rest of the collection of crustaceans.

However, nothing was more disturbing than the claws attached to Butch's principal.

Butch looked at Him who was fuming, looking through a folder. Butch was called out of his first class of the day for a "serious conversation about his future". Given the tone Him had on the phone, Butch knew it was not going to be a pleasant talk.

But then again, when was anything with Him ever pleasant?

"I see you added to your collection," Butch said, pointing to the small lobster.

Him looked up from the folder. The principal shifted it's dark eyes to the red crustacean and then to Butch, completely ignored him and saying, "Mr. Santos… Do you realize why I called you into my office?"

"I figured you were starting to miss me," Butch replied sarcastically, smiling devilishly at his principal.

"No," Him answered firmly, glaring slightly at the student. Him looked down at the folder again, "I want to discuss your record."

"What about it? I've been good this year… Only like two detentions."

"Considering you have a cumulative record of 152 detentions, does not make it "only two detentions"," Butch gulped as Him pressed on, "Not to mention, you have five complaints from three different teachers already and a failing grade in-" Him sighed before speaking, "- _College Algebra_."

"That's not my fault. Professor Jojo totally has this vendetta against me," Butch argued, leaning back into the chair in frustration. "I swear, he does."

"Mr. Santos, I cannot go against the facts here." Him handed Butch the folder, which contained past test scores. Butch frowned, flipping through the papers while Him continued, "I have also heard you've been talking back to your teachers and ignoring a majority of your homework―only Ms. Keane has seen a consistent effort from you."

"That's because Keane is the only reasonable teacher here. Everyone else assigns fifteen billion hours of homework," Butch spatted, narrowing his eyes at Him.

Him raised a thin eyebrow, "This is what I'm talking about," Him acknowledged. "Do you understand why I'm bringing this to your attention?"

"I don't know," Butch shrugged. "To make me feel like shit."

"No, Mr. Santos." Butch rolled his eyes at Him's pronunciation of his last name, as it sounded like Him was saying "sand-toes" every time. "I'm telling you this because it is possible, that if you do not clean up your act, you would not be accepted into any major university… You would actually be lucky enough to be accepted into a community college."

Butch stared, wide-eyed, at the red-pigmented being, forming tight fists and feeling the urge to smash the ruby lobster, but instead counted to ten to calm himself―just like Blossom always told him to do so when Butch felt extreme cases of rage.

"How is that even possible? I go here. No one at Townsville Academy goes to community college."

"That is exactly why we're discussing this… All personal things aside, Mr. Santos-" Butch rolled his eyes again, "I want to see you succeed after graduation-"

"That's only because it benefits you," Butch mumbled.

Him ignored Butch, continuing, "I'm giving you a warning. One more detention; one more complain; or one more failing grade. Anything that reflects badly on you, and you will be dismissed."

"So you're kicking me out?" Butch questioned, wishing he could tear off Him's pointy goatee.

"Only if you fail at meeting the standards we sustain here at Townsville Academy," Principal Him replied, smiling innocently and speaking in a whispery feminine tone.

Butch stood up quickly, staring deeply into Him's pitch-black eyes, "This is bullshit," he replied, grabbing his backpack from the floor. Butch then stormed out of Him's office, only to pause at the doorway to say, "And your new collectible? _Fucking creepy_."

* * *

Boomer could not help but notice something was different during lunch. Bubbles was not her bubbly self, staying silent most of the time and sending occasional glares to Buttercup. Buttercup did the same, stabbing her fruit salad aggressively. Boomer wondered if it had something to do with what Bubbles said yesterday, but he figured it must have been something else.

The two best friends were not the only ones acting strange during the lunch period.

Brick seemed oddly quiet, keeping his focus on the lunch before him―Boomer was pretty sure that the redhead had not eaten any of his food, only moving it back and forth with his spoon. Butch, like Buttercup, was aggressively eating his food while rapidly shaking his leg.

Blossom was the only one that seemed normal, eating her food and waiting for a conversation to develop. She shifted her eyes to everyone, noting their odd behavior like Boomer did, meeting Boomer's ocean blue eyes. Her eyes asking him what was everyone's deal. Boomer replied with a shrug, making Blossom sigh loudly.

Her sigh made Brick look up, briefly, from his food. Brick caught Blossom's eye for a split-second before he quickly returned his focus to the food in front of him.

Brick's action made Blossom raise an eyebrow. She definitely felt there was something wrong with him. Blossom noticed it in their Chemistry class when he completely ignored her for most of the class period―Brick only spoke to her to ask for a pencil while brushing off anything else Blossom said to him.

Blossom hoped this was not about the confusion on her wanting to be a doctor or dancer. Or, he was uncomfortable about their moment on the football field that occurred the day before. It could not be that, right?

She pushed that out of her mind, turning to her boyfriend who looked like a volcano ready to erupt.

Blossom was not in the mood to associate with Butch in his state—angry Butch was her least favorite version of him. Instead of figuring out what was wrong with him, she focused more on her roommate.

Buttercup went completely sour after Bubbles left yesterday—not even wanting to speak to Blossom after it. Blossom did not see the reasoning for why Buttercup would be upset at Bubbles in this situation. Buttercup was the one who acted inappropriately, despite how Blossom felt about Bubbles' decision-making caused the fight. Perhaps Buttercup was unpleased with Bubble's immaturity?

Even though she did not agree, Blossom recognized the need to be there for her friend.

"Buttercup, can you come with me to the bathroom?"

Buttercup rolled her eyes, stabbing another piece of pineapple, placing it in her mouth and reluctantly stood up, walking over to the bathrooms with Blossom. Bubbles narrowed her eyes at the two as they grew more distant from the table.

"Do you think Buttercup is upset from yesterday?" Bubbles asked to the table of boys once Buttercup was out of earshot, finally breaking her silence. Butch, who rolled his eyes at the thought of Buttercup's feelings, and Boomer shrugged, while Brick finally looked up from his food.

"It's pretty obvious," Brick acknowledged.

"Who the hell cares about how Buttercup feels anyways?" Butch sneered. "She was a complete bitch to you."

Bubbles ignored Butch's comment, addressing Brick's opinion. "It just bothers me how she handled the whole situation," Bubbles admitted, sadden by how she was being portrayed. "Like, not going to college with Boomy really frightens me-" Boomer smiled down at his girlfriend. "-and she's supposed to be one of my best friends. Shouldn't Buttercup show some sympathy instead of attacking me?"

Brick nodded, "Yeah, true-."

"What the heck did I even do wrong? I just really love my boyfriend," Bubbles argued.

"When you look at it that way, it's not," Brick replied. "But then again, Buttercup is pretty independent and is all about feminism. So maybe she sees that you're setting women back? I don't know."

Bubbles sighed loudly, nodding at Brick's words. He had a point, and it was starting to make her feel pathetic. Deciding to follow a boy to college did sound pretty anti-feminist of her. It would make a lot of sense for Buttercup to be annoyed by her doing that. Also it made Bubbles question whether she has become dependent on Boomer. Was she really going to let him stop her from going to her dream college?

Her head said no, but her heart had another answer.

"All I wanted to do was talk about college," Bubbles said quietly.

"I get that–"

"At least you have the option of going to college," Butch mumbled, catching Brick's attention.

"What do you mean by that?" Brick asked, diverting his attention and raising an eyebrow.

Butch rolled his eyes, not really wanting to divulge in his statement but felt a bit relieved in someone expressing interest in his troubles. Ranting always did help him blow off some steam.

"Apparently, I'm too much trouble for a college to ever take interested in me and if I don't clean up my act, I'll be lucky enough to get into a community college," Butch confessed, frustrated, while Bubbles and Boomer gasped, giving him sympathetic looks. "Worse thing is, Him told me, I'll be kicked out if I don't follow any rules from now on. You know how fucking bad it will look if I get kicked out?"

"Yeah, colleges would definitely not want you after that," Boomer commented mindlessly, earning a glare from Butch.

"Duh," Butch groaned.

"Can Him even do that?" Bubbles asked, trying to remain positive. "I mean, Ace stolen from Him's collection last year, and he's still here."

Brick raised an eyebrow at the statement, having never heard that story before as Butch replied, "I don't fucking know. I feel like the administration here is doing everything in their willpower to do whatever it takes so I can fail."

"I feel like you're being a bit over-dramatic," Brick commented, patting Butch's shoulder.

Butch rolled his eyes, "No, I am not..."

"We can try helping you, Butch," Bubbles said hopefully. "None of us want to see you fail." Brick and Boomer both nodded, smiling.

"Thanks," Butch smiled slightly. "But it's going to take a whole lot to fix everything."

"I'm sure we'll figure something out," Bubble replied, tapping her chin in thought. "What has Blossom said about all of this?"

Brick turned to Butch, trying not to show the high interest he had in the question.

"I haven't told her," he shrugged. "And I probably wouldn't."

"Why not?" Brick asked quickly, cursing to himself silently at his eagerness in asking. He was afraid Butch would notice, but sighed in relief when Butch did not.

"Because she would freak the fuck out and try to get her dad to bribe my way out of the situation," Butch explained. "I want to figure everything out before I tell her."

"I get it," Brick answered, nodding.

Brick respected Butch level-headed attitude about the entire situation despite how obviously enraged he was. However, it made Brick wonder if this threw a wrench in Butch's college plans with Blossom. And selfishly, Brick hoped it did.

* * *

Stepping into the girl's restroom, Buttercup stared down the few girls that occupied the space. One stood in front of the mirror, eyes widened at the sight of the green-eyed girl, mid-application of mascara, while the others stopped washing her hands.

"Out," Buttercup said firmly, crossing her arms, waiting for the girls to run out the room―she did not have to wait long, as they ran out in less than thirty seconds. One of the stalks open swiftly, a blonde quickly washed her hands and sprinted out the bathroom.

"Was that necessary?" Blossom asked, feeling a little bad for the other girls.

"Yes," Buttercup simply replied, taking a seat on the sink counter, crossing her arms again, staring at the strawberry blonde.

Blossom sighed, taking a seat next to her, swinging her legs a little, "What's your deal, Butters?"

"Bubbles pisses me the fuck off."

"I get that but why?"

"She's a fucking idiot."

"For wanting to be with Boomer?"

"Yes!" Buttercup shouted. "She's going to waste her entire future because of him, and I'm not just going to sit there and not say shit when I don't agree with what she is doing." Buttercup met Blossom's eyes, "Blossom, we both know Boomer isn't going to get into anywhere."

"That's not true. There's―"

" _Blossom_. He asked me if California was a _country_ yesterday."

"I mean-"

"And then proceeded to ask which side did it fight for in World War 3. _World War 3_ ," Buttercup exasperated.

"Well, given our current president, World War 3 isn't that far off," Blossom quipped.

Buttercup rolled her eyes, "I know he's our friend, and he's one of the nicest people I've ever met, but we all know he's fucking dumber than rocks."

"Yeah," Blossom sighed, slumping her shoulders. "He is―How did he even get into here?"

"Bubs says he drew a palm tree on his entrance exam. He was two questions off from a perfect score," Buttercup explained. "They had to let him in despite his current GPA at the time."

"He's the one with the legendary score?" Blossom gasped, eyes widened in shock. " _He beat me_?"

Buttercup nodded, chuckling, "Apparently."

"I can't believe that. He's so… He's so _moronic_. Boomer literally has no chance at surviving in the real world."

"Exactly.

"Now you see why Bubbles pissed me off so much?"

Blossom nodded, "I really don't understand her sometimes... Is she really going to give up such a good school like _UCLA_ for a guy?" Blossom rolled her eyes, "She can be so foolish sometimes."

"Come on, Blossom. They're supposed to get married and have billion of blonde babies and own an island," Buttercup mocked, putting on her best baby voice to match Bubbles' innocent tone. The two laughed loudly at the nature of their blonde friend, Buttercup rolling her eyes, "Give me a fucking break."

"God. I love her but she can be so-"

"Annoying? Dimwitted? Borderline fake? Has to play victim all the time? Basically, a knock off _Taylor Swift_?"

Blossom nodded her head as the bell rang, alerting the two it was time for the fifth class of the day. The two friends jumped down from the sink counter, straightening out their clothing. Blossom turned to the mirror, fixing her hair a little and grabbing lip gloss from her bag. "Anyways, Buttercup. I think you should at least talk to Bubbles about it."

"Why the fuck would I do that?" Buttercup questioned, staring at the redhead as she applied the clear liquid to her lips.

Blossom rubbed her lips together, putting the lip gloss back into her bag, and touching up her hair again. "Because she's your friend."

"You just don't want her to follow Boomer, don't you?" Buttercup questioned, lifting an eyebrow.

Blossom broke her gaze from the mirror, looking up to Buttercup―there were times, Blossom forgot her best friend was almost six feet tall but right now, she did not.

"No. I want you to make up. I don't like when the group is fighting."

"Fine," Buttercup sighed, walking towards the door. "But a little of the reasoning has to do with Boomer?"

"Just a tiny bit," Blossom answered quickly, following after her.

"So transparent, Pinky," Buttercup smirked.

"Am not."

"Whatever you say―hey, there isn't any drama that you need advice for?" Buttercup asked, opening the door. "You know, to make things even."

Blossom shook her head, flipping her hair, "Please, I have no time for drama."

"Good, cause I really wasn't going to listen anyways."

* * *

"Mr. Adams, I was wondering how your writing was going?" Ms. Keane asked when stopping at his desk as she was making her rounds around the classroom. She smiled eagerly at him, hoping to hear some type of progress.

Brick's eyes quickly shot up from his newly written paper to, unnoticeably, the back of Blossom's head and then to Ms. Keane. He forced a smile and nodded.

"Yeah, I think I learned a few things"

Ms. Keane smiled, "Great! Can't wait to read it on Friday," she replied before beginning to walk around the room again.

Blossom, having heard the conversation, shifted in her seat to face Brick, eyebrow raised and trying to met his crimson eyes.

"So you're not a mute today, huh? That's _interesting_."

"Yup," Brick replied, avoiding her eyes by pretending to write.

His plan to ignore—whenever he felt for Blossom—was to ignore Blossom all together but it was proving to be way harder than he thought. In Chemistry, all he wanted to do was to crack jokes about the supposed rigor of course like usual with her. He wanted to have a conversation with her at lunch. But instead, he remained mum and avoided eye contact with her because Brick knew if he looked into her light pink eyes, it would only confirm the inevitable.

Biting her bottom lip, Blossom was unsatisfied with his answer but most of all, it brought up questions as to why he was ignoring her back into the centerfold of her thoughts.

"Is this about what happened yesterday?" Blossom asked abruptly in a quiet tone so no one else could hear them—mainly Ace, who sat behind Brick in a heavy slumber. "On the football field?"

Brick quickly looked up at her, surprised by her question, and then down to the paper again, "Of course not. Nothing happened," he croaked.

"Oh. Okay. Then is it about the doctor/dancer thing?"

"Um… Yeah. That's it," Brick lied. He did so to prevent her from asking any further questions.

"Oh."

"I just feel like it's not right to lie to everyone."

"You're right," she nodded.

Brick's head perked up instantly, "Oh really?" he smirked.

"Yeah. I've been meaning to decide on what to do. I just don't want to disappoint."

"I don't think Butch would be disappointed with _anything_ you do," Brick muttered.

Blossom inhaled deeply, looking over to her tan boyfriend. Butch, who still looked pissed about something, was heavily focused on the assignment in front of him. She then turned back to Brick, exhaling.

"It's not only Butch... It's my parents." Brick nodded. "They've been pressuring me to be a doctor since I turned five, and… I just don't know how exactly to tell them that I don't want to be doctor. I know they'll be disappointed and I'm scared of what they'll do―And that's the same with everyone else here-"

"So no one knows you want to be a dancer?"

"Nope. Only you know-"

"Why me?" Brick asked, staring intensely into her eyes.

Blossom paused, taken back by his question—a question she did not truly know the answer to it but she played it off to be the opposite to hide that fact.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "It's just slipped."

Brick nodded, not impressed by her answer, focusing his gaze back to the window. "Well… when are you going to tell them?"

So much for his ignoring her plan.

Blossom chew on her bottom lip again, looking down at the perfectly, shiny floors.

Blossom knew she could not tell her parents the truth because they would never accept it. They were business people and the only acceptable career paths for them were: doctor, lawyer, or politician. What her parents, and her, did not expect was Blossom soon discovered love of dance. It started when her mother placed Blossom in a ballet class at the age of six, and Blossom has not stop dancing since—even with the disapproval of her parents.

That was part of the reasons why she had to apply to Townsville Academy. To escape the controlling environment and to be able to dance without any judgments. But Blossom knew her four year break was soon going to end. She will have to return to the reality of having to live up to her parents' dream. This why she has all her college applications filled out as being a Pre-Med student instead of applying as a dance major like she dreamed of doing.

"I don't think I will," she mumbled

"You can't be fucking serious, Bloss? Weren't you just tell me a couple of weeks ago that when you feel truly passionate about something, you have to go for it, even if it goes against your parents wishes?"

"Yeah, but–"

"But nothing. Don't be a hypocrite, Bloss. But mostly, do whatever your heart desires because that's what truly knows what is right for you," Brick advised. "Dancing is your dream and you shouldn't give up on it unless it is your decision to do so, _not_ somebody else's."

Blossom smiled at him, taking his advice. Brick made it sound so simple, and yet, as complicated as her situation was, maybe it was just that simple.

"You know, I have been approached for a few dancing scholarship already," she smiled.

Brick rolled his eyes, but smiled at her too, "God, you're _such_ an overachiever."

He was glad to have encouraged Blossom to chase her dreams but it also brought in the question on how it all impacted her plan with Butch.

Brick darted his eyes to his friend, still feeling sympathy given Butch's recent situation with Him. But Brick also felt a little spiteful and was slowly becoming aware that his friendship with Butch was going to rapidly change.

He return his gaze to Blossom again, and asked the only thing he had on his mind, "So, does this mean you're still going to _Princeton_?"

"Like being doctor, I never wanted to do that. I just been saying _Princeton_ to everyone because it on my parents' "acceptable colleges list"."

Brick hid the smile that was beginning to take form on his lips, "Then where does Miss. Blanchette _really_ see herself spending the next four years at?"

Blossom stared into his eyes, feeling a jolt of excitement to finally talk about her dream school.

" _Juilliard_ ," she answered confidently. "I see myself there... and well, I've actually, secretly, been working on my audition tape since July."

Brick raised an eyebrow, smiling at her and crossing his arms on the flat surface of his desk, leaning forward, "You should go for it."

"You think?"

"You're amazing, Bloss. _Juilliard_ would be fucked without you," Brick answered, feeling no shame for his obvious flirtation—but the statement was truly how he felt, despite the feelings he had for Blossom.

Blossom blushed a little at his comment, letting some of her hair cover her face so Brick wouldn't noticed.

"Thanks, Brick."

"No problem. And _when_ you do get accepted into _Juilliard_ , I want to watch your audition tape."

"Why?"

"I want to see what turned your dreams into a reality." He leaned a little more in his desk, "... Plus, I'm a huge fan of your dancing," Brick said lowly into her ear, making Blossom's cheeks turn a dark shade of red.

Yeah, his ignoring plan was now completely threw out the window.

"Alright. We have a deal then."

"Great."

Blossom turned to him once again after her cheeks were no longer warm, smiling. She was glad to see Brick was in his usual talkative mood again.

"So… What did you write for Ms. Keane? "

Brick blinked at her question, trying to find the best way to reply to it.

"Some personal stuff."

"And what is it that you learned from it?"

"Just things about myself I've never noticed."

With this conversation they were having, Brick had finally accepted the fact he had feelings for Blossom. And he was not going to stop himself from showing them anymore because Blossom was what Brick truly desired.

"Was it good?" Blossom asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"I don't know," Brick smiled. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

* * *

As soon as softball practice ended, Buttercup rushed over to the locker room. She was looking forward to meeting up with Mitch for a little fun before getting some dinner with Blossom. However, Buttercup was not expecting for Bubbles to pull her aside to speak about their "differences"—Buttercup totally rolled her eyes when Bubbles said that but followed the blonde anyways.

"Buttercup, I'm sorry if I offended you in anyway," Bubbles said quietly while Buttercup stared at her judgmental. Buttercup always hated any apology that used the word "if". It made the person who was apologizing come off as they did not care about the other person, and the only reason they were apologizing was to ease their own guilty conscious. In this case, Buttercup can 100% confirm that was the only reason Bubbles was saying sorry.

"If you offended me?" Buttercup narrowed her eyes at the blonde. "I'm sorry you cannot deal with me trying to prevent you from screw up your future for some dumb guy."

"Boomer is not just some guy," Bubbles said defiantly. "I love him. And as my "best friend", you should understand that."

Buttercup chuckled darkly, "Well, as your "best friend", I'm telling you it's fucking dumb to make future decisions based around Boomer―He's not going to be around for forever, Bubs."

"Yes, he will," Bubbles argued, holding back a few tears in her eyes—Buttercup just knew where to hit her insecurities. The blonde looked at her green-eyed friend, sighing. Arguing more was not her plan. "Buttercup… Can we just forgot about it, alright? I apologized and I've felt extremely guilty the entire day."

Buttercup rolled her eyes. This was classic Bubbles, also making other person feel as if they were in the wrong when she was. But shifting in her stance, Buttercup knew she was going to forgive Bubbles. Only for the sake of the group and for the odd chance she will be able to convince Bubbles to make different life decisions.

Exhaling loudly, Buttercup replied, "Fine… You're forgiven." Bubbles squealed, clapping and jumping a little before hugging her dark-haired friend. Buttercup tried pushing her off but the blonde would not budge—Bubbles was a lot stronger than she appeared. "Ugh, Bubbles. You know I don't do hugs."

"I don't care," Bubbles said, squeezing Buttercup more. "I'm really sorry, Buttercup."

"It's fine," Buttercup sighed as Bubbles finally broke the embrace.

Bubbles shook her head, "No, it's not―How about we get some veggie burgers? My treat."

"Is this your way of making it up to me?" Buttercup asked, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

"No. I just want to hang out with you," Bubbles said, smiling kindly. "I'll find another way to make it up to you."

"Great," Buttercup answered, finally smiling but feeling the need to address Bubbles' problem. "But Bubs, please put some heavy consideration when planning your future―without involving Boomer."

Bubbles nodded, biting her tongue to avoid disagreeing with Buttercup. The petite blonde knew she was not going to follow Buttercup's advice—Boomer was more important, but that did not mean it was not going to be a lingering thought in her mind when applying to colleges.


	5. Painting A New Canvas

Townsville Academy's art club was Bubbles' proudest achievement to her high school career. Not only did she start the organization from the ground up during her freshmen year, but also the club has earned the school recognition at three major local art festivals.

However, these accomplishments went unnoticed by most of her peers as the art club had hit some hard times. When the club first started out, there were about twenty members but after some graduated or quit, only six members remained. Furthermore, the art club was also in a financial crisis after Robin spent most of the budget on expired yet expensive acrylic paint. Because of this, Bubbles feared of when she did graduate from Townsville Academy, the club would fall a part. She wanted to keep her legacy intact and make sure the future generations of TA students will be able to express themselves artistically.

So in order to raise funds to keep the club going, Bubbles and the other art club members had decided to hold a one night only art show in a vacant building off campus—thanks to Blossom's generous donation. They had been planning this event since school began that semester and only had one more detail to figure out.

What was the theme going to be?

"We're two weeks and a half way from Halloween," Dee Dee commented, squinting her eyes at the calendar in the back of the art room. "We should do a Halloween theme."

"That's so childish," Elmer—the only male member of the club—objected, turning to Bubbles. "I say we all do portraits of food but―and hear me out―we do them entirely in glue. It would be totally unexpected."

"Gross."

"No."

"Is this because you eat glue?" Dee Dee asked, making the other members cringe while Elmer glared at her.

Bubbles shook her head, trying to forget the mental image Dee Dee's question produced. "That's kind of… _Weird_ ," she said quietly, trying to avoid hurting his feeling.

"Is not!" he folded his arm, leaning back into his chair.

Bubbles turned away from him, more concern about the theme than his attitude. She pointed her pen at Dee Dee, and said, "I agree with Elmer about the Halloween theme but I do like having a connection to what's going on right now."

Robin rolled her eyes, looking at her blonde friend, "I still think we're better off without a theme, Bubs. It's not like it's going to make any impact."

Bubbles raised an eyebrow, taking in Robin's words but also looking at the same calendar Dee Dee was staring at a minute ago. The pink background and Robin saying "impact" gave Bubbles the best idea she had ever thought, in her opinion. Plus, it held a special place in her heart. So Bubbles would be damned if everyone turned down her idea.

"It's October," Bubbles said, making everyone in the circle nodded their heads, questioning why she pointed out the obvious. "October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month…"

Robin's eyes widened, "Oh. My. God. Bubs, you're a genius," the brunette exclaimed, while the rest of members smiled brightly in agreement—except for Dee Dee, who appeared puzzled.

"I don't get it," Dee Dee said quietly but was ignored by the other members since Robin talked over her.

"Doing that as our theme gives it more meaning to the art but also can draw more people to our art show–"

"And help raise profits for people with the disease," Bubbles added.

Robin nodded, not really caring about that part, "This perfect, Bubs. We're going to raise so much money! This club is totally going to be saved!"

"I hope so."

* * *

Rushing down the hallways in the morning before class started, Butch was dodging people from all different directions. Many gave him strange looks as he raced down the hall but Butch did not care.

All he cared about was getting to Blossom's locker as fast he could. It was the first thing Butch thought about when he woke up in the morning.

"Blossom!" Butch shouted when he saw her strawberry blonde hair in the distance. Blossom quickly snapped her head up, smiling while shaking her head at her boyfriend's antics.

"Yes, Butch?" Blossom asked, raising an eyebrow, when Butch, who was trying to catch his breath as he finally made it to her.

"So guess… whose parents… Finally sent them their first quarter check?" Butch baited, finally getting his breathing normal—having to run first thing in the morning was totally not his thing, but he could not have waited to tell Blossom.

At Townsville Academy, parents' were required to send a necessary amount of funds to their students to pay for certain accommodations, such as new books or school supplies. However, the student are allowed to spend the check on whatever they felt like—which was mostly food, new clothing, or technology.

"Really? It's about time," Blossom smiled. "First quarter is about to end next week."

"I know," he grinned, grabbing Blossom's hands and lacing them together, taking a step closer to her. "And now I can _finally_ take you out this Saturday."

"Butch. You don't have to spend your money on me."

"What? I want to treat you," Butch shrugged nonchalantly, smiling widely at his girlfriend. "Besides when's the last time we actually went out on a date?"

"Last semester before summer break, I believe," Blossom confessed, feeling guilty as hell for the long length of time. Perhaps she has neglected Butch just a little lately.

"Exactly. It's been, like, fucking forever since we hung out alone-" Blossom opened her mouth to object to his statement, but Butch beat her to it. "-with the exception of a month ago, but that was only rushed shower sex while hoping Brick didn't come back early from dinner."

"I thought you said it was good?" Blossom asked, blushing at the statement.

"Please, babe. Anything with you is perfect," Butch reassured, making Blossom grin brightly. He separated their hands, placing his hands on her shoulders, "I just want to spend some quality time with you. I feel like it has been awhile since we've really talked."

Blossom nodded, pushing her bangs out of her face, "I do too, Butch—But we can't this weekend. Bubbles is having her art show that night."

"That's not even a problem, Blossom," Butch smiled. He found it cute she wanted to support Bubbles. "We just add Bubbles' art show as a stop on our date. I'll make that the first stop."

"There's stops?" Blossom asked, accepting his idea and grinning more.

Butch nodded, pulling Blossom closer and moving his hands down to her waist, "Oh yeah, baby. I told you, we haven't been out in a while," Butch said, smiling down to her. "I want to make this date special."

"How am I so lucky to have a guy like you?" Blossom coaxed, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I don't know but you really lucked out if you ask me," Butch teased.

"Oh, shut up," Blossom said, pulling Butch down into a kiss. As Butch lifted her up a little, deepening the kiss, Blossom allowed herself to be excited about their date. She hoped it would be as extraordinary as Butch promised.

* * *

"Ugh," Blossom groaned as she tripped over Buttercup's clothing pile, which blocked their shared closet. She turned to her roommate, narrowing her eyes, "Buttercup, when are you going to pick up your clothes? Cause I'm not dealing with this for another year."

"Eh. My side, my problem," Buttercup brushed off, smiling amusingly at Blossom.

"I should have dormed with Bubbles again," Blossom mumbled to herself, picking up some of Buttercup's clothes from the ground.

Buttercup raised an eyebrow, having heard what she had said, "You really want to deal with Bubbles and her 24-hour cheeriness like freshmen year? Because I fondly remember all of your rants about wanting to murder her."

Blossom sighed, remembering those days, and then glaring at Buttercup, "I hate when you have a valid point."

"I don't," Buttercup chuckled as there was a small knock on their door.

"It's open," Blossom shouted, grabbing the last of Buttercup's clothes off the floor.

"Hey," Bubbles greeted cheerfully. "I'm not interrupting anything, right?" The two roommates shook their heads. "Great!"

"I'm actually glad you are here, Bubs," Blossom said, looking through the small closet. "I need help picking out an outfit for my date with Butch."

"You're finally going on a date?" Bubbles asked eagerly, smiling brightly. The blonde walked over and took a seat in Blossom's desk chair. "Butch has been asking me and Boomer for advice for, like, weeks."

Blossom arched her perfectly groomed eyebrow, "Really? Why? He's acting like we're going on our first date again."

"Maybe Butch's scared he'll lose you," Buttercup chimed, staring bored at her nails while Blossom glared at her.

"I don't get why. I'm not going anywhere."

" _Right..._ "

Bubbles, once again, felt left out of the conversation as the roommates communicated to each other with a glare. Shifting in the desk chair, she forced a smile, trying to break the tension in the room.

"I think you should wear the silver, glittery skirt you have," Bubbles said.

Blossom turned her attention to the bubbly blonde, "You don't think that's a little too fancy?"

"Blossom. I've seen you wear a vintage _Chanel_ dress to a high school soccer game," Bubbles responded, raising an eyebrow. "After that, nothing is too fancy."

"True." Blossom pulled the tea length skirt out of the closet, placing it on her bed and walking back to the closet, staring at it and then sighing frustratedly. "I think I forgot the top that goes with it back in New York."

"I have a shirt similar to it, I believe."

"You'll let me borrow it?"

"Of course."

"Thanks, Bubs," Blossom smiled, shutting the closet doors and taking a seat on her bed.

"So… Did Butch tell you where you're going?" Bubbles asked in an attempt to keep a conversation going.

"Nope. He likes to be secretive about this stuff."

"How romantic," Buttercup deadpanned.

"Seriously, Buttercup?"

"What? I'm just joking," she shrugged. "And trust me, you're lucky Butch cares about stuff like that. Mitch thinks sharing a corndog together qualifies as a date."

"Mitch is pathetic," Blossom laughed, while Bubbles frowned. The blonde did not know why Blossom was picking on Buttercup's boyfriend. She looked at her dark-haired friend, expecting for her to be fuming, but, surprisingly, was laughing along with Blossom.

"Tell me something I don't know, Pinky," she continued. "At least he makes it up in his cuteness."

"If you're into freckles, then I guess."

The two laughed more, making Bubbles feel insecure about the situation. She thought after bonding with Buttercup last week, things would be better but, obviously, they were not. Seeing them exclude her from the majority of their conversations lately, made Bubbles try to figure out when did their trio turn into a duo with a plus one. Was it after she started dating Boomer or was it always like this?

To distract herself from those thoughts and the smooth, ongoing conversation made by her best friends, Bubbles checked her phone, hoping Boomer texted her―He replaced his water damaged phone with a new one after getting his quarterly check last week. Bubbles felt a wave of disappointment to only see a message from Robin and reluctantly tapped to see what it was, expecting it to be about the art show.

However, it was not.

The message was detailing the theme for the upcoming homecoming dance, Powderpuff game, and the nominees for homecoming court―Robin was the head of the homecoming committee this year. With widened eyes, Bubbles read the list, surprised by four out of the six nominees.

"Did you see the homecoming nominees?" Bubbles asked, interrupting the conversation between the other two.

"Isn't Robin in charge of that?" Bubbles nodded, while Buttercup rolled her eyes, "Then I don't give a fuck."

"I'm with Buttercup," Blossom said, flipping her long, straight hair.

"Blossom, I think you will care."

"Oh God, Bubs. _Please_ tell me that I wasn't nominated again," Blossom pleaded, rubbing her temples. She campaigned to her classmates weeks ago not to vote for her. Sure, winning and being recognized by her peers was fun, but it never gave a pleasant feeling to Blossom. The week brought out her biggest insecurity, which was why she never looked forward to the dance.

"Sorry, but you were," Bubbles said quietly, trying to hold back the smile she wanted to share. She felt like Blossom should be happy about this, it showed to her that their peers thought highly about her, but instead Blossom acted like it was as if she contacted the plague.

"Damn, Pinky. That's four years in a row," Buttercup smirked. "Everyone here is so far up your ass, it isn't funny."

"It's actually exhausting," Blossom groaned. "And let me guess, Butch is one of the guys too?" Bubbles nodded as Blossom rolled her eyes, " _Great_."

Bubbles ignored her friends detesting attitude towards the nominations and smiled brightly, "But Boomy and I were nominated too!" Bubbles shared enthusiastically.

Buttercup and Blossom exchanged a look, raising an eyebrow at each other before Blossom spoke, "That's…" Blossom paused, afraid to break Bubbles' joyfulness.

"Amazing," Buttercup finished, saving Blossom, who smiled at Buttercup to thank her.

"Yeah. Hopefully, you'll beat Butch and I."

"I don't know…" Bubbles grinned, trying not to get her hopes up. "I think the other two might have a chance."

"Who?"

"Did they nominate Dexter again as a joke?" Buttercup asked, raising an eyebrow eagerly.

Bubbles shook her head, frowning at the memory. Last year, Butch made a campaign to " _Carrie_ " Dexter after finding out the ginger tried hitting on Blossom again. Thankfully, someone―Boomer after Bubbles expressed her sympathy for the redhead―had enough balls to tell Him and stopped the plan beforehand but everyone on campus knew what was going to happen, which lead to Dexter discovering the truth behind his nomination. For about a month, Dexter isolated himself, even refraining from speaking in class to correct others. Bubbles still feels like the event furthered Dexter's trust issues and anti-socialness.

"Then who is?"

"Stacey Salcedo-" Blossom rolled her eyes at the name, "and Brick-"

"Why would people fucking vote for Brick?"

"Brick's pretty popular, Buttercup. He has led the football team to a winning record so far. Friends with the majority of the campus," Bubbles listed. "Plus, a lot of girls think he's _really_ hot."

Buttercup quickly glanced to Blossom before turning to Bubbles and rolling her eyes, "Okay, so Brick is impossibly perfect," Buttercup quipped. "And everyone here cannot see through his bullshit. It's fucking predictable."

Blossom shifted uncomfortably, biting her bottom lip and feeling like everything Buttercup was saying applied to her. She just wanted to change the subject entirely.

"So um... " Blossom said quietly, getting both pairs of eyes on her. "Where do you think Butch is taking me?"

* * *

"How is this, babe?" Boomer asked, holding up Bubbles' latest piece of artwork while managing to hold his balance on a ladder.

They were in the warehouse where the art show will take place. The large building had a huge open space, which was great for the predicted amount of participation they were hoping for. The warehouse had exposed white brick, a high beam ceiling, a skylight, and floor-to-ceiling windows. For the show, the club will have a large, black platform set up in the middle of the open space for the speeches that will be given by Him and Robin. Surrounding the stage will be the six members' art exhibits. Each have been given a section of their own which would be at an equal amount of distance away from each other.

Bubbles tilted her head a little, making sure the painting was even and also at the most aesthetically pleasing position. She smiled brightly at her boyfriend, giving him a thumbs up.

"It's perfect, Boomy."

"Thank God," he announced, climbing down the ladder. "I was starting to think I was going to drop it."

Wiping his palms against the fabrics of his pants, Boomer joined his girlfriend, staring up at the artwork. Besides Bubbles, he never thought he had ever seen anything so beautiful.

"What do you think?"

He smiled at her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer, "I think you'll singlehandedly save the art club."

"You're just saying that because you're my boyfriend," Bubbles grinned. "You're biased."

"I don't even know what biased means but I don't care. These are fantastic, Bubs."

"Thanks…" she said quietly. "A lot of them are extremely special to me. Especially the middle one."

Boomer broke his eyes off of her, looking up to the canvas in front of them. It was of a female angelic figure. She had light brown hair, a bright smile, and calming hazel eyes.

Boomer did not recognize who the person was based on looks, but the smile and the kind eyes in the painting were all too similar.

"Is that-"

Bubbles nodded, cutting him off, "Yeah…"

"Are you sure you want to share this with everyone?" he asked, turning to his girlfriend with concern.

"It goes with the theme-"

"I don't care, Bubs," Boomer interjected, staring intensely into her light blue eyes. "I care about how this is going to affect you. Last time you talked about it, you cried for three hours."

Bubbles inhaled deeply, looking up at the painting. This piece of artwork was her favorite one. There was so much meaning and emotions behind it, and if it did not turn out perfectly like the others did, she would have loved it no matter what. And Bubbles wanted to show everyone the love she had.

"I think I'm ready," Bubbles said confidently, turning back to Boomer.

Boomer raised an eyebrow, "You're one hundred percent sure?"

Bubbles nodded, "I am."

"Well then," Boomer pulled her closer, kissing the crown of her head and rubbing her arm, "I'm really proud of you, babe."

"Thank you," she grinned, staring up at the canvas once more.

Boomer joined her, taking in all the colors and texture on the paper, "And I'm sure she would be proud too."

* * *

After knocking rapidly on Blossom's door, Butch quickly ruffled his hair a little bit while waiting for the door to open. Satisfied with the wildness of his dark curly locks, he smiled brightly at the sound of the knob turning. His face quickly dropped at the sight of an unimpressed Buttercup staring him down.

"Blossom, you're boyfriend is here," Buttercup called towards the bathroom, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes.

"Tell Butch that I need five more minutes," Blossom replied faintly to her roommate.

"She said-"

"I heard her."

"Congratulations," Buttercup deadpanned, leaning against the door frame and raising an eyebrow at him. " _Wow_ , you're not wearing gym clothes for once. You actually don't look completely disgusting."

Butch rolled his eyes at her comment even though it was true. His everyday outfits were always athletic based―Butch had one pair of jeans to his name, in which he only wore on extreme occasions. That was not the case for this night, however, as he decided to wear a pair of black slacks—he borrowed them from Brick, malong them about two inches shorter in length and a little tight for Butch but he did not care—and a dark green button down with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Butch definitely felt sauve in his outfit and hoped Blossom would notice—but apparently, Buttercup did too.

"Whatever, Buttercup."

"Hey, that's the closest I'll ever come to complimenting you. Take it while you can."

" _Aren't_ I lucky," Butch replied sarcastically, making Buttercup glare at him. He looked down at his watch and tapped his foot impatiently, "What's taking Blossom so fucking long?"

"She's re-straightening her hair—which is dumb since her natural waves are way better."

"Not really," Butch mumbled. "Her wavy hair is too messy."

"Says the guy that purposely tries for the mess look," Buttercup deadpanned.

"That's different."

"Is it?"

Butch narrowed his eyes at her, "Buttercup, will you please leave me the fuck-"

"Hey," Blossom greeted, coming out of the bathroom and stepping next to Buttercup. Once Butch saw her, he grinned brightly, forgetting his whole conversation with Buttercup.

"Wow. You look gorgeous," Butch said in awe, flickering his eyes up and down at her. He opened his arms to bring her into a warm hug, kissing her forehead "Incredibly beautiful and perfect."

Blossom blushed against his chest while Buttercup pretended to gag.

"Can you leave already? You're making me sick."

Blossom giggled at Buttercup's comment as Butch glared down at her.

"Okay, Buttercup. We'll go," Blossom said, smiling at her best friend. "See you at Bubbles' art show?"

Buttercup nodded, sighing, "Yup."

"Great."

Blossom tugged on Butch's arm, letting him know they can leave now. He smiled down at Blossom, keeping an arm wrapped around her shoulder, while she held the hand for that arm. They were midway down the hallway when Buttercup's raspy voice could be heard down the hall.

"If you have sex tonight, make sure to use a condom," she yelled down the hallway. "Butch is so _not_ father material," Buttercup smirked, watching Butch send her a death stare as Blossom laughed lightly, pulling her boyfriend out of hallway before he could respond.

* * *

"I _really_ shouldn't have worn high heels if I knew we were going to walk so much," Blossom complained for the twentieth time, trying to ignore the pain she felt in her feet, clinging onto Butch's arm.

"Yeah. I probably should have told you," Butch mumbled, forcing a smile. He was starting to grow extremely irritated by her constant complaining.

The couple had walked at least two miles into town, already stopped by Bubbles' art show, and still had a little bit to go in order to reach their final destination—which Butch remained secretive about.

"Why couldn't we have ordered a cab or _Uber_?"

"Didn't have enough money for that," Butch shrugged.

"I could have paid for it, Butch. It's no problem–"

"Babe, it's fine–"

"Not really," Blossom interjected, making Butch frown. "I'm going to have blisters all over my feet."

"Blossom–"

"My heels are going to be ruined after this."

"Can you–"

"And these are new _Louboutins_ too," Blossom continued, rubbing her temples. "My dad is totally going to kill me if I ask for more money."

"Blossom, can you shut up for once?" Butch snapped, staring down at his girlfriend. She looked up at him, narrowing her eyes but felt a little intimated by Butch—he rarely used this tone with her, even when they were fighting. Only when he was about to get into a physical fight or talking about his brother.

"Fine," she choked.

" _Great_ ," he hissed, walking a bit faster to distance himself from her.

Blossom raised an eyebrow at this, trying to meet his pace. When she caught up to him, she noticed the stern look on his face—an obvious sign of his frustration.

"Why are you upset, Butch?" Blossom sighed.

"I'm not upset."

"Yes, you are."

"I'm just irritated. That's all."

"At what? Me?"

Butch nodded, looking at her like she was dumb. " _Obviously_."

"But why? What did I do?"

"I don't know, maybe it was complaining the whole time when the date hasn't even really started yet," Butch pointed out.

"No, I'm not," Blossom countered, offended by his remark.

"Blossom, you sound like a spoiled brat right now... Maybe even worst than Princess."

Blossom opened her mouth to reply, but could not find anything to combat with. Instead, she crossed her arms, rolling her eyes, "Whatever, Butch."

"Great comeback, _Babe_."

Butch turned to her, narrowing his eyes at her. He felt like she was obviously in the wrong but did not want to apologize for it—which pissed him off more. All Butch wanted to do was have a good time with his girlfriend. Instead, he was just miserable.

It made him regret the whole date night idea.

"We should just go back."

Blossom stopped in her tracks, staring wide-eyed at him, "Butch. Are you really going to cancel our date?"

"The night is already ruined," he shrugged, starting to walk in the opposite direction, "What's the point anymore?"

Blossom stayed frozen on the sidewalk, watching Butch's distance grow more and more.

* * *

Staring at the painting before him, Mitch was captivated. He was interested in every brush stroke, the fusing of colors, and texture of canvas mixed with the paint. The painting was probably the most beautiful thing Mitch has ever seen.

"Did you do this?" Mitch asked, turning to artist next to him and pointing up to the work of art.

"Yeah, I did," she nodded, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"It's fucking incredible, Robin."

"You think?" Robin asked, in disbelief. "I thought it was a little too bland—especially compared to Bubbles' work."

Mitch looked over to the crowded exhibit, raising an eyebrow. He did not see why everyone else was so interested in Bubbles' painting more than Robin's. Mitch felt like the brunette's work was more detailed and neater than the blonde's work.

"I disagree," Mitch replied. "And while I don't know much about art, I do think your work is ten times better than Bubbles."

Robin blushed at his compliment, smiling away from him so he would not notice, "Thanks, Mitch."

"No problem," he smiled. "Just stating the truth."

Robin turned back to him, matching his smile but also taking note of the absence of a dark-haired girl. "Where's Buttercup?"

"Eh, there was an emergency with the softball team, so she had to leave early," Mitch shrugged. "I decided to stay and I got bored looking at Bubbles' stuff, so I came over here to see actual artwork."

Robin's felt her cheeks warm up again but this time, she did not look away, "I can show you more if you want?"

Mitch nodded, grinning brightly at the brunette, "I would like that."

* * *

"Bubbles, have you seen Robin?" Dee Dee asked desperately with her blue eyes searching the room.

Bubbles shook her head, frowning, "No, why?"

"She's supposed to give the speech in, like, two minutes."

"Wait. Are you serious?" Bubbles joined Dee Dee in searching, standing on her tippy-toes to see over the crowd of people but being 5'3" to begin with, it did not help her at all. Bubbles was beginning to question why she even allowed Robin to be the one to give the speech on the behalf of the club. As president, it should be Bubbles but Robin was so pressed on doing it, Bubbles gave it to her just to avoid conflict. In hindsight, it appeared to not have been the smartest move. "Where could she be?"

"I don't know but we need to find her fast before Him-"

"Good evening people of Townsville," Him spoke, being heard and echoed throughout the room. Bubbles and Dee Dee looked at each other, panicked eyes at the sight of their Principal, who was about to introduce Robin to the stage. "If you don't know, I'm Principal Him, and I'm extremely proud of our art club's efforts tonight—"

"What are going to do?" Dee Dee questioned with a hint of fear.

"I… A…"

Bubbles was completely speechless. She could not believe Robin was letting the art club down—but Bubbles was not going to hold it against her. Instead, Bubbles just wanted a solution to the situation at hand. This night and everything involving it, was too important to Bubbles for her to let it fall a part, and as president, she needed to step up.

"... I'll go on," Bubbles said quietly, staring at Him determinedly.

Dee Dee turned to her, eyes still widened, "You sure? Do you even know what you'll say?"

Bubbles glanced over to her artwork, smiling at the paintings and nodded, "I think I do," she said before jogging over to Him's podium.

"—And with that said, I am proud to introduce the Treasurer of the art club, Robin Snyder!"

The audience clapped but the students—and Him—all raised a questionable eyebrow when they saw a blonde take the stage instead of a brunette.

"Um hi," Bubbles spoke into the microphone, briefly waving at the audience. She blinked at the crowd before her, feeling a rush of anxiety hitting her. The blonde looked over to Dee Dee, who gave her a reassuring smile, but Bubbles focused more on the blond next to her tall friend.

Boomer stood there, a smirk plastered on his face. Dee Dee had not informed him on why Bubbles was up there but he knew it had to be important. And because of that, he joined Dee Dee, smiling brightly at his girlfriend, giving her thumbs up, and mouthing to her "You got this".

Seeing Boomer and Dee Dee supporting her, boosted Bubbles confidence. Her anxiety seamlessly washed away as she flipped her bouncy curls, and addressed her audience with an optimistic grin.

"For unfortunate reasons, Robin was unavailable to give a speech tonight, so I will be taking over her duty. I'm Olivia Lopez, but you can call me Bubbles," she giggled with a few members of the crowd joining her. "And I'm the president of the art club." A round of claps ignited, making Bubbles grin more, "I, um, started this club my freshman year at Townsville Academy. I wanted to create a space for students to embrace their inner creativity and have it be celebrated."

The crowd cheered a little bit more, smiling at the blonde speaking. Bubbles returned the smile, taking a deep breath.

"And, to me, our art club has succeeded in making my vision into a reality. However, that might not be the truth when I graduate," Bubbles said quietly, which would not have been heard by anyone if she did not have a microphone before her. She frowned, feeling shameful while seeing the sea of large eyes. "The art club at TA is in extreme amounts of debt and there's really no way we could fix it. That's why we held this art show tonight." Bubbles gestured to the paintings around the room, still frowning.

As the crowd followed her hand, she paused at her exhibit, still motioning at her main painting. The smiling woman speaking to her soul. And while not taking her eyes off of the artwork, Bubbles smiled reassuringly again, knowing exactly what she wanted to say now.

Bubbles looked down to her audience again, still smiling, "But after choosing the theme—Breast Cancer Awareness—I decided to change the purpose of this show…" Bubbles exhaled deeply, building up all the courage she had in her body while Boomer watched with concern. "The disease has had a personal effect on my life since I was younger. See, my mom was diagnosed with stage four breast cancer when I was five…" Bubbles voice began to quiver a little, "... And she died a year later from the illness."

The whole room stared at the short blonde with sympathetic eyes. Some had tears forming, waiting for what she had to say next. Boomer still watched with concern while Dee Dee asked if he knew about this. He nodded, never taking his eyes off of Bubbles.

Bubbles glanced back over to the painting, not taking her eyes off of it, "And because of that, she had inspired the main piece of my artwork." The crowd all turned to where Bubbles was staring, finally understanding who the women in the painting was. Bubbles gazed at her mother's depicted smile, feeling the art captured her complete essence, making Bubbles smile once again.

"And while I wasn't able to help her then, I want to help others who are dealing with breast cancer," Bubbles said smoothly, standing more confidently than ever. "With that said, I want to give all proceeds collected tonight to Breast Cancer research." The four art club members in the room all gasped collectively, knowing this was not their plan but all felt proud and approved of Bubbles' decision.

The crowd clapped loudly at Bubbles' decision. Bubbles waited for them to calm down—which took a good thirty seconds—before speaking again.

"Thank you all for coming and supporting Townsville Academy and our art club tonight but also, thank you to those who decide to be selfless tonight and donate to Breast Cancer research," Bubbles smiled. "My mom's advice to me before she passed was to "Make sure to be kind because that's the only way you can ensure the world becomes a better place," and while I know those words will stay with me for the rest of my life, I hope they stay with you too. Thank you once again!"

Another round of applause continued as Bubbles walked off stage and jumped into Boomer's arms. Boomer wrapped his arms around her waist tightly, while she did the same around his neck.

"I'm so freaking proud of you, Bubs," he whispered into her ear. "And your mom is definitely proud of you too."

"Thanks, Boomy," Bubbles said quietly, wiping a small tear from her eye.

* * *

"Is this the stop?"

Blossom nodded, not glancing at her driver. After Butch left her, Blossom decided to call a cab for two reasons: fear of being alone in the middle of night—especially being a girl—and because Blossom was sure she could not walk another hour or two in her heels or barefoot.

Her driver pulled over, turning in his seat to receive his payment. Blossom handed her credit card, inhaling deeply and exhaling.

"Thank you, beautiful," the driver coaxed, handing back her credit card but also a slip of paper with his number on it. " _Really_ hope to see you again."

He winked at Blossom on her way out as she avoided any eye contact with him. Blossom felt disgusted by the whole exchange, breathing a sigh of relief when hearing his car pulling away.

She crumpled up the tiny piece of paper, throwing it into the nearest trash, taking off her heels and carrying them in her hand. Walking barefoot onto the sleepy campus, Blossom felt the cool October breeze blast against her face, increasing her already naturally cold body temperature to below freezing.

Blossom hugged herself, rubbing her arms to try warming up a little, wishing to be curled up in the coziness of her bed. But a nagging voice in her head told her she needed to find Butch first. Blossom wanted to fix things now instead of prolonging them, but mostly, she wanted to apologize. Blossom had no intentions of treating Butch badly or neglecting him. She wanted to say sorry for ruining the night. And because of that, she had to locate him. There were only four places he would be: his dorm, the soccer field, the mess hall or—and this was a long-stretch—outside her dorm room.

She figured Butch would not go straight to his dorm because of the possibility of Brick being there and the want to be alone after a fight. So Blossom decided to head towards the soccer field first.

Blossom was meet with more disappointment that night when she found the field to be completely empty, forcing her to opt for the mess hall.

As she walked through the courtyard to the hall, Blossom noticed a large shadowy figure at one of the picnic tables. It took her a few more steps to realize the table was where their group sat at lunch. Which only meant the shadowy figure was Butch. And it was hard to see, thanks to his dark clothing, but moon's glow helped illustrate to Blossom of Butch's body, slumped over on the bench, staring up at the few stars in the sky.

Taking a deep breath, Blossom encouraged herself to walk over to him, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table. Butch did not even acknowledge her, focusing on the black sky while Blossom awkwardly tapped her fingernails against the wood of the table, biting her bottom lip.

It took ten minutes before either of them said anything to each other.

"How did you find me?" Butch mumbled, taking his eyes off the sky, but still would not look at Blossom. Instead, he glanced at the buildings around them.

"Figured you would be eating since that's what you do when you're upset, but then I spotted you here."

Butch chuckled briefly at her answer, adding another prolonged silence between the couple before finally deciding to look at her. And while it was almost pitch-black where they were, Butch's emerald eyes seemed to illuminate as they stared into Blossom's soul.

"Blossom. What are we doing?"

Blossom's eyes widened completely, "What do you mean?"

"Can you hear me out, Blossom?" Butch replied calmly. Blossom nodded, even though Butch could not notice it. He took her silence as her agreement, allowing him to continue. "Blossom, I love you. Like, I would do anything for you but I cannot deal with the pointless arguing all the time. It's like we can never be around each other without ending up in a fight."

"Butch, I'm really sorry," Blossom muttered quietly, lowering her head. "I didn't mean to ruin our night."

"I know," Butch sighed. "I'm just… I'm just tired of the constant fighting. At first, I thought it was cute—and kind of hot—but now, I'm starting to feel like it's not healthy. And you know, given my anger issues, I don't know how long I can control myself from going completely off on you. It's not like I've ever wanted to or felt like I was going to, but tonight, I did feel a flash of the person I used to be, and it frightens me. I don't want you to be on the receiving end of it, especially over a petty little argument."

"Butch–"

"God, Blossom," Butch groaned, dropping his face into his hands. "I love you so much and I want to be with you, but I don't–"

"Butch–""

"–know what to do about our relationship or how to fix it. I think–"

Blossom inhaled sharply, swallowing the lump that formed in her throat.

"Butch. I love you too," Blossom shouted, picked up her head, staring back into Butch's eyes, blinking back the few tears she had. Her voice began to quiver as she continued, "I take you for granted it, like, _all_ the time. You plan these super elaborate dates, always encourage me, always proving to me that you're more that some sleazy high school guy, and love me unconditionally; while all I do is belittle, complain, and nitpick everything you do. I'm inconsiderate of your feelings, and it's completely selfish of me to treat you like this." She stopped, wiping a small droplet from her eye and smiling softly at him, reaching for his hand. "But if you let me, I want to fix that so I can be a better person because that is what you deserve as a girlfriend."

"Are you sure?" Butch asked, trying to hide the smile that was starting to form on his lips.

Blossom nodded, lacing their fingers together, "There's no one else I would rather be with than _you_ , Butch."

Butch let his smile free, jumping up from the bench, climbing over the table and pulling Blossom into a tight hug, stroking her long, silky hair. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," she smiled, nuzzling her cheek into his chest. Blossom felt a sense of comfort in his arms, feeling warmth for the first time that night—and hoping to continue the feeling. "So… do you want to start over our date night?"

Butch grinned more, resting his chin on the top of her head, "There's nothing more I would love to do."

"Good," Blossom said, breaking the hug and lacing their fingers together again. Resting her head on his arm, walking to the dorms, Blossom turned to him, smiling curiously, "By the way, what was that secret location that you were taking me to?"

"Antoinette's," he smiled sheepishly.

"Are you serious?" Blossom questioned, widening her eyes. Antoinette's was her favorite restaurant for a few reasons, but mainly for one: it was the best place on the west coast to get authentic French cuisine. However, the meal came with a hefty price tag—an average dinner for two would cost around two hundred and fifty dollars without dessert. "Your parents don't usually give you that large of a check, Butch."

"I know. I know. But I wanted to make the dinner special, and again, I wanted to treat you. So..."

Blossom sighed lightly, tracing a circle on his hand with her thumb, "Thank you though, Butch. It's the thought that counts."

Butch smiled, kissing the crown of her head, but began to hear his stomach growl. Blossom tried to hold back her laughter by covering her mouth.

"Yeah. Maybe skipping dinner wasn't such a great idea."

"Maybe so," Blossom giggled. "But we could still get something to eat."

"You want mess hall food?" Butch questioned in disbelief.

"I mean, there's a small diner that's five minutes away that we can go to. They have good club sandwiches."

Butch raised an eyebrow, "I'm fucking down for it."

"Great."

"Yeah—hey, how did you find out about the place? You usually don't eat anywhere off campus unless it's Antoinette's."

Blossom shrugged her shoulders, ignoring the flash of red eyes that ran through her mind, "I went with a _friend_ once."

* * *

"Please tell me this isn't true?" Robin asked, placing the school newspaper on Bubbles' desk earlier Monday morning.

Bubbles smiled at the article, proud to see the main photo featured was the portrait of her mother. "What so wrong with it?"

Robin grabbed the newspaper, pinching her nose, "What's wrong? What's wrong, is that all the money we were going to use to save the art club is now gone."

"Yeah, but that doesn't matter, Robin. Donating the money to Breast Cancer research is a much better."

Robin rolled her eyes, "Not when our work over the last four years is about to go down the drain." Bubbles frowned at her comment. "This definitely wouldn't have happened if I had given the speech like we planned."

"But you were nowhere to be found, Robin," Bubbles challenged.

"I was literally at my art display the whole time," Robin stated, rolling her eyes again. "But you wouldn't know that because everyone was fussing over your's."

"Robin–"

"It's whatever, Bubbles. I'll find another way to fix the financial mess _you_ made–"

"Didn't _you_ cause the club to go into debt?"

Robin's neck snapped at the sound of the soft yet cunning voice, widening her eyes at the sight of strawberry blonde hair.

"Yeah, but, I, I, um," Robin stuttered, feeling her cheeks turn ten different shades of red.

Blossom smiled confidently, walking over to Bubbles' desk, "Then you might as well do us all a favor and shut the hell up."

Robin, fearing anything worst from Blossom—it was probably the easiest the redhead has ever been on her—she rushed over to her desk, not saying a word.

Bubbles tried to hide the small smile she had, although, she did feel bad for Robin's treatment again—Robin was still her friend after all.

"What are you doing here, Blossom? Shouldn't you be in Utonium's?"

"Him called me," she shrugged. "Him actually called me out because of you-"

"Me?" Bubbles shrilled. "Was it bad? Am I in trouble? Is Boomy in trouble?"

"No, none of that, Bubs," Blossom chuckled. "It was actually about your art show and how much _you_ impressed Him."

"I did?"

Blossom nodded, "Him was very fond of your speech and the decision on the donations. So much so, that the principal wanted me to give you this," Blossom paused, reaching into her bag and pulling out a white envelope, handing it Bubbles. Blossom smiled down at her blonde friend, "Congratulations, Bubs. You truly deserve it."

Bubbles waited until Blossom turned on her heel and walked out of the classroom to open the envelope. She tore it up slowly, taking in deep breaths and feeling her stomach drop. Peering into the envelope, she found two pieces of rectangular paper.

Bubbles inhaled deeply, pulling the paper out. Her eyes widened as wide as they could, squealing extremely loud that everyone in her classroom gave her a look. Bubbles felt as if she could pass out when reading the contains of the paper.

It was two checks for twenty thousand collectively to the Townsville Academy's art club and Breast Cancer research. A generous act of kindness that Bubbles knew was decided on by Him but actually came from Blossom and her family.

This check meant the art club was going to be saved but also did not need to worry about their budget for years to come. It also meant Bubbles could also contribute to helping find a cure that her mother never got a chance to have.

Never had Bubbles felt more overjoyed than the day Boomer finally asked her out—which this totally topped it. Bubbles could not believe the kindest she was receiving. But then again, she did. It was because her mom was watching out for her. And with her mother's word of advice, Bubbles always had faith others could be kind too.

Looking up at the ceiling and wiping a few tears of joy from her eyes, Bubbles smiled and thought back to Boomer's words.

" _Your mom is definitely proud of you right now_."

Bubbles hoped Boomer was correct but deep down, she knew he was right.

"Thank you, mom," she whispered lovingly.


	6. Frozen In Time

Homecoming week at Townsville Academy was often found to be most exciting week of extracurricular events for the whole school year. The week kicks off on Monday with the annual powderpuff game―seniors and juniors vs freshmen and sophomores―in the afternoon, which then is followed by a string of actvities during lunch throughout the week. On Friday, the homecoming game takes place with Townsville Academy versus their long time rival, Citiesville Prep. The week concludes on Saturday with the actual dance and the crowning of homecoming King and Queen. Everyone at Townsville Academy looked forward to this week when the first semester begins.

Everyone but Blossom, who already had a problem with how the week was going.

"Where's Robin?" Blossom roared through the locker room, tightly grabbing a pink shirt. All the girls in the room, wide-eyed and wanting to avoid her wrath, pointed towards the brunette. The redhead stomped over to Robin, waving the shirt in her face. "Who was in charge of the Powderpuff t-shirts?"

"I was," Robin said slowly, confused.

"Did you not notice the mistake on these?" Blossom huffed, handing the pink shirt to Robin. Robin stared at the shirt, not seeing anything wrong.

"I don't-"

"You forget the "d" in powderpuff," Blossom rolled her eyes, snatching the shirt back from Robin and pointing it out. "Now it say "Townsville Academy _Powerpuff"._ What the hell, Robin?"

"It's just a small typo," Robin smiled sheepishly, shrugging her shoulders.

"Yeah, a small typo that's on every single t-shirt made," Blossom deadpanned, rubbing her temples. "I honestly don't know why I wasn't picked to be in charge of homecoming."

"Maybe it was because you said you weren't going to homecoming this year."

Blossom narrowed her eyes at the brunette, remembering the multiple comments she made about the topic, "Whatever, Robin." Blossom turned on her heel, flipping her strawberry blonde hair, "Just try not to screw up again, _alright_?"

After watching Blossom stride out of the locker room, Robin downcasted her eyes, avoiding the stares from the other girls. As she shamefully followed after the redhead, Robin promised to herself to prove Blossom wrong.

Once and for all.

* * *

Boomer exhaled deeply, waiting for his cue while watching the crowd in front of him. Tugging on the small miniskirt he was wearing, Boomer smiled brightly as Mitch signaled for him. Boomer took a few steps forward, waving his arms at the crowd to get them to cheer louder before performing an array of flips and cartwheels with the rest of the guys participating in the powderpuff game.

In the crowd, Butch and Brick smirked with amusement, trying to hold back the laughter they had.

"I can't fucking believe he agreed to this."

"With how much yoga he does with Bubbles, I do," Brick replied, flickering his eyes to the girls entering the field.

Butch shook his head, "Not the cheerleading part. I'm talking about wearing the girl uniform." Butch gestured to the unflattering, polyester, red and blue outfit that did not fit any of the males' frames correctly. "They all look fucking ridiculous," Butch laughed. "Thank God, Blossom didn't ask me to do that."

Brick's face remained tight at the mention of the redhead's name, brushing off Butch's last comment, and shrugging, "I guess Bubbles is pretty convincing."

"Oh, _definitely_ ," Butch grinned. "Especially with their anniversary in two days, Boomer will be willing to do fucking _anything._ Might finally be getting his chance to get into her honey pot."

Brick raised an eyebrow at Butch's word choice, raising both of them when he understood what his green-eyed friend was referencing. "Wait. They haven't had sex yet?"

"Nope. Poor Boomer has waited for three years and still no action."

"Fuck." Brick could not believe what Butch was saying. Being a teenage guy―especially being one with a long-term girlfriend―it was hard to imagine how long Boomer has been waiting. Brick did not even think he could be that patient. "So they're both fucking virgins?"

Butch nodded, "So fucking bizarre when you think about how affectionate they are."

"Yeah."

"If anyone was going to wait this long, I thought it would be Blossom and I-" Brick winced a little at her name, not wanting to hear where this was going, "-cause you know, she seems like an uptight prude," Butch chuckled, while Brick tried to tune him out in favor of the football game in front of them. "But she _definitely_ has proved me wrong."

"That's her favorite thing to do," Brick mumbled, not moving his eyes off the field as Buttercup made the first play of the game, running twenty yards down the field before having her flag pulled.

Butch sighed loving, "God, she's amazing." He glanced at Brick, grinning and raising an eyebrow, "I can't fucking wait until Saturday. Especially afterward." Brick nodded, wishing he was anywhere but here. "You know, she almost was going to skip homecoming this year."

Brick raised an eyebrow, glancing at Butch and then back to the field, "That's weird. Why would she even consider that?"

"She told me but I wasn't really paying attention," Butch replied nonchalantly.

Brick rolled his eyes, "Butch, I think you should-"

"Hey cutie," Blossom greeted, interrupting Brick. She headed straight towards Butch, taking a seat next to her boyfriend and kissing him, seeming unaware of Brick's presence. Brick focused on the field again, ignoring the couple next to him but feeling his chest fill up with jealousy. When the couple pulled apart, Blossom then noticed Brick was also there. "Oh. Hey, Brick."

Brick's eyes flickered to Blossom, meeting her pink eyes. He just smiled at her in reply, noticing her pale hand firmly placed on Butch's knee. It reminded Brick of the day when they were on the same bleachers a month ago, and at this moment, Brick wished he would have done something then.

If Brick did, he would not be third wheeling right now. He also would not feel so green with envy.

"Where were you, babe?"

Blossom rolled her eyes at the memory, "Robin is so incompetent. She misspelled powderpuff on all the t-shirts the players have to wear."

"I was wondering why they all said "Powerpuff" instead of powderpuff," Brick commented quietly.

Blossom nodded her head, "Like, what kind of idiot doesn't check for typos before having something printed onto a hundred of shirts."

Butch chuckled, "Robin is pretty fucking dumb."

"At least "Powerpuff" kind of sounds badass," Brick shrugged.

Blossom raised an eyebrow, " _Sure_ , Brick."

* * *

"Hey, Pinky. Can I ask you something?" Buttercup questioned. The two were back in their dorm, finally getting to relax after the game. The seniors and juniors won by twenty points―largely because of Buttercup.

Blossom, laying down, threw her covers over herself and shifted her body towards Buttercup's side of the room. "Yeah, go."

"I know this is a stupid fucking question and I probably already know the answer but…" Buttercup paused, feeling hesitation with having Blossom's eyes on her. However, she continued because Buttercup knew if she did not, the question would continue to plague her. "When you and Butch got together, did he start to treat you differently?"

Blossom raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

Buttercup sighed, not understanding why she was thinking and behaving like this. "Like, did he stopped trying so much to impress you or, I don't know, did Butch just seemed different than when he was trying to getting with you?"

Blossom blinked at Buttercup's question, wanting to brush it off and ask her a question instead because it was pretty obvious why she was asking this.

"I mean, in the first two months, he was the same. He was still trying to prove himself to me, giving me his attention almost 24/7, but after junior year started, he was more calm about it. Butch is still all about me though." Buttercup frowned, nodding at her answer. She fully expected Blossom to say that, making her sigh again. "What's wrong, Buttercup?"

Buttercup rolled her eyes, feeling ridiculous. "I don't know. I just feel like my relationship isn't what it is supposed to be. I guess Mitch and I don't really know how this works because it both our first times in an actual relationship but when I have your's and Bubbles' relationships constantly thrown at me as examples of how they should look like, it hard not to think about it."

"Buttercup, there's no textbook definition of what a relationship should look like," Blossom said, sounding like a mother.

"I fucking know that, Blossom," Buttercup spat.

Blossom glared at the green-eyed girl, "There's no need to snap at me, Buttercup."

"You're right," Buttercup sighed, sinking her shoulders. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"I just― I'm frustrated. I think Mitch has become more distant lately, and I don't know what to do about it."

Buttercup felt a sense a relief from speaking about her concerns. She and Mitch have only been dating officially for a couple of months now but something changed in how he was around her, and Buttercup just wanted things to go back to how they were before.

"You both just don't know what you're doing, so it's like uncharted territory. And the key to making relationships last is to communicate. Tell Mitch how you feel―You usually have no problem doing that with everyone else."

"You're so annoying sometimes, Pinky." Buttercup nodded, smiling a little, "Always knowing what to say."

"I've had years of training―By the way, did you find anything to wear to homecoming?" The redhead asked.

Buttercup rolled her eyes, "I'm not going to that shit."

"Come on, Butters. I know we agreed about not going this year but now I have to go because our classmates are-"

"Dumbasses"

"Exactly. So if I have to suffer, you do too."

Buttercup rolled her eyes again, "I don't remember agreeing to that."

"You did," Blossom smiled sheepishly, continuing before the Buttercup could say anything. "Plus, going could help bring you and Mitch closer."

A good two minutes passed, with the two sitting in silence, staring each other down before Buttercup sighed in defeat.

"Fine. I'll go."

"Yes!"

"But I'm not wearing a dress, Pinky."

Blossom grinned, "Thank god we're the same size because I have the perfect black jumpsuit for you."

* * *

In Blossom's opinion, being on homecoming court was the most stressful task. The student body examined each nominee like they were under a microscope, picking a part what they like or dislike about the nominee. They do this to decide whom they will campaign for or start a load of rumors against to build a smear campaign―in her freshmen year, a nominee from the senior class named Fiona was caught cheating on her boyfriend during homecoming week and everyone in her class turned against her, slut-shaming the girl viciously. By the end of the first semester, Fiona had transferred to a local high school in her hometown and was never heard of again.

Of course, Blossom had never been in Fiona's position. Instead of negative comments and smear campaigning, everyone praised Blossom, and wished they either: were her or with her. Blossom knew it was more beneficial to have everyone on her side―and she used it to her advantage when necessary. That was a lesson she learned earlier on and practiced all her life because of her parents as they believed image was the most important aspect of a person. With the majority of the student body believing Blossom was perfect, she could do no wrong in their eyes.

To her classmates, she was the sweetest, most intelligent, well-rounded, wealthy, and beautiful person to ever exist. They did not see the true side of her. The ultra-competitive, arrogant, cunning, vengeful, and bitchy side. Blossom maintained a perfect illusion with her fellow classmates, with only those close to her knowing the truth of her nature. In her mind, her parents would be proud of how easily she had them fooled and had them wrapped around her finger; but she knew they would not care. It was that truth in which made Blossom detest Homecoming. It reminded her of the disappointment she brought to her parents.

It also did not help for Blossom to have to deal with Robin for a whole week, which made things ten times worse for her.

"Blossom, where's Butch?" Robin questioned, looking down at the clipboard of names she had.

They were at the rehearsal and information meeting for members of the court, an event Blossom has had to sit through for four years in a row and none of the information has ever changed since. Blossom rolled her eyes, looking over to the freshmen in the corner. All of them had smiles plastered on their faces, not knowing the true reality of being a nominee. Blossom grimaced a little, wishing she could be as naive as them.

"He's making up a test for Professor Jojo," Blossom answered reluctantly.

"Couldn't he have done that tomorrow or something? This is _way_ more important."

"Oh yeah, this totally is," Blossom snorted. "Sitting through an information session that he's heard two times already is more important than his academics. _Definitely_ more important, Robin."

Robin sighed in defeat, slumping her shoulders, "Blossom. Why do you hate me so much?"

Blossom narrowed her eyes at the brunette, feeling a pit of anger swell up in her chest at Robin's lack of remembrance to their past, "You _know_ what you did."

"Yeah but that was years ago. Can't we move past it?" Robin questioned, smiling hopefully. Her hopefulness made Blossom laugh.

Which was exactly what the redhead did to reply. Robin frowned deeply at Blossom's "answer", feeling humiliated as some were listening in on their conversation, joining in by silently laughing along with Blossom.

Robin inhaled deeply, trying to regain the composure she had with the other court members, "Well, since Butch cannot be here and one sophomore isn't here, you have the option of budding up with Nelson Thomas-" Robin pointed over to the tall, dark sophomore that Blossom recognized from being on the water polo team with Boomer. "-or Brick Adams for today's walkthrough."

"I'll take Brick," Blossom answered quickly, not putting in an thought to her choice.

"Great," Robin responded, getting back her chippy-ness she had before speaking to Blossom. "I'll go get him."

Blossom watched as Robin went over to where Brick stood, tapping on his shoulder. She noticed a smile formed on his face from―presumingly―being informed about being Blossom's partner. Blossom mindlessly smiled at the thought but her smile quickly faded when Robin stepped to the side, revealing who Brick was hanging out with for the entire time they had been waiting―it was Stacey Salcedo.

Ever since freshmen year, Blossom and Stacey have had a discrete rivalry. While she had bigger conflicts, such as the ones with Robin or Princess, Stacey was the only person Blossom truly saw as competition. This was because Stacey was not a terrible person. She was the sweetest girl on the softball team, almost matching Bubbles' sugariness, which meant Blossom had to be cautious whenever dealing with Stacey as she was the only person to cast a negative reflection on to Blossom. Stacey also had a very curvaceous body, coming from a Colombian background, and the most gorgeous long black hair.

Blossom was not aware that Brick and Stacey had become friends, but she did particularly remember Butch informing her last week on trying to set Brick up with someone from the softball team because Butch felt his roommate was in desperate need of action after learning Brick has not hooked up with a girl since coming to Townsville. Blossom cursed to herself, which was really geared towards Butch.

Stacey and Brick.

They were going to become a couple. The idea did not sit well with Blossom, at all. Brick was Blossom's close friend, there was no way she was going to let Stacey take him away from her―and that was the only reason why she did not like the pair.

She narrowed her eyes at them as Stacey open her arms to let Brick hug her. The short length and lack of mutual affection in the hug made Blossom grin.

Blossom grinned more when Brick finally walked over to her while Stacey watched, staring sadly at them now. Blossom ignored the Latina's stare, focusing on her partner for the day.

"So, according to Robin, we have to be paired up for some reason?" Brick asked, raising an eyebrow.

Blossom nodded, "It's for the walkthrough. There are certain rules we're supposed to follow and they'll be showing us the exclusive way we'll be introduced at the dance."

"Oh. That's pretty fucking cool. We're like VIPs or some shit."

"Sort of. It's much more fun when it's your first time being nominated."

"Yeah, it must be boring doing this each year when you already know what to do."

"Tell me about it," Blossom exasperated as Robin began to motion for everyone to take a seat since she was beginning the homecoming committee's slideshow presentation.

"You have to stop being so damn charming, Bloss," Brick whispered, taking a seat in the chair next to her in the back of the four rows that were formed. "Then you wouldn't have to die of boredom."

Blossom felt her cheeks slightly warm up, "I think that's impossible."

Brick smiled down at her, staring into her watermelon-pink eyes. "I definitely have to agree with that. You're _too irresistible_ ," he said lowly in her ear as Robin turned to a new slide.

Blossom raised an eyebrow, feeling the heat of her cheeks increase, "Are you sure I'm the one that needs to tone down the charm?"

"What? Don't like it?" Brick whispered with a smirk, leaning a little more towards her, allowing his left knee to press against her's. He knew this was overstepping major boundaries, and considering how affectionate Blossom and Butch were the night before―and have been lately―Brick felt like whatever opportunity he might have ever had, was disappearing. But since Butch was not here―and could be the last time in a while it could happen―Brick was going to take advantage of the situation and see if he could make any possible opportunities reappear again.

Blossom stared intensely into his crimson eyes, letting his question sink in. It was hard for Blossom to actually think of what to say as she was getting distracted by the heat radiating from the closeness of their thighs, and the playful grin on his face. She did not know what to make of the situation and why exactly he was doing this―or she did know, but just did not want to acknowledge it consciously. Instead, Blossom replied without much thought.

"I might be _slightly_ impressed."

Brick cocked his eyebrow, "Well then, I'll stop when you're fully impressed."

Blossom simply smiled at his remark, glancing at closeness between them, feeling the coldness of her thigh dissipate from the heat of his'. She flickered her eyes to Brick to see if he noticed but his eyes were now focused on the slideshow presentation. Blossom figured he would have moved by now, which was what usually happened when they accidentally let themselves get caught up in the moment. Brick's behavior sent many questions running through her mind but Blossom chose to ignore them, looking around the room to see if anyone was paying attention to them.

She let out a sigh of relief when the coast seemed clear, relaxing in her seat. Blossom focused on the presentation she has seen three times already, allowing Brick to continue to evade her personal space. And while, Blossom thought no one noticed them, only one person did.

The person just so happened to be the one person that was giving the presentation they had to listen to.

* * *

After the presentation, Robin led the group to the football field to demonstrate to each court member how to enter and present themselves at the dance. Being seniors―and because of the underclassmens' immaturity and incapable of taking directions―Blossom and Brick had to wait on the bleachers until it was their turn. And while they waited, the redheads were engaged in a constant conversation―the two have not really spoken individually in a week or two since Blossom wanted to spend more time with Butch. She had forgotten how easy it was for her to talk to Brick.

"So wait. You failed Utonium's quiz yet you answered correctly all his review questions the day before," Blossom recounted, arching her eyebrow. Brick nodded, grinning sheepishly. "How does that happen, Brick? All the questions were the exact same."

"I was kind of distracted."

Distracted was an understatement. The quiz was timed for 15 minutes and Brick knew he had it in the bag when Utonium placed the paper on his desk but after completing three questions in one minute, Brick decided to look up and see the progress his classmates were making.

That is where he got distracted.

Blossom, who sat diagonally from him, was wearing a tight, black mini skirt that was pushed up a little from sitting down, showing off of her toned, milky-white thighs more than usually. Brick began to wonder how soft her skin must be, which led him to think about the rest of her body and what he wanted to do with Blossom. As Brick imagined an entire fantasy, the fifteen minutes ended and Brick was just left with a three out of twenty questions answered and a severe case of blue balls.

"What could you possibly be distracted by? Nothing ever happens in that class."

"I was thinking about football and what new plays we should try this week," Brick said smoothly, proud of his quickness. "Got to beat Citiesville, right?"

"I don't know about that," Blossom replied. "We haven't won against them in twenty years. And that was because Citiesville had to forfeit."

"But we will this time. The team has come a long way."

"Yeah because of you," Blossom pointed out, making Brick smiled widely. "But one person cannot win a game."

"True, but I think I can do it."

"Cocky much?"

"Maybe."

"Alright, Brick," Blossom chuckled, pushing some hair behind her ear. "You know, Him told me there's going to be a couple of scouts at the game―it will be the first time scouts have come to one of our football games. Him said it's because of you and that they've been watching you for years now."

"Oh really?" Brick cocked his eyebrow, "Do you know who?"

"I think Him said Ohio State, Arizona, Stanford, and Syracuse," Blossom shrugged. "Maybe more."

"Shit, man. Those are some prime schools," Brick exasperated, rubbing his forehead. "Now the pressure is fucking on."

"Brick, I'm sorry." Blossom lifted her hand, hovering over Brick's back, hesitant to rub it to comfort him because of how it might look but did so anyways, making small circles into his back. "I shouldn't have told you."

Brick shook his head, not moving his inch so Blossom could continue rubbing his back, "It's fine. I just have to make sure I'm giving 110% on Friday."

"Please, you could be on 40% and they'll still want you," Blossom argued, smiling reassuringly. "You have so much raw talent and are too amazing for them to pass up on you."

"Thanks, Bloss," Brick smiled massively, looking deeply into Blossom's eyes. "You're amazing too."

Blossom flickered her eyes to the field, seeing Stacey and the Nelson going through their walkthrough. From her face, Stacey was obviously not having a good time.

Blossom looked back at Brick, tilting her head a little and removing her hand from Brick's back, "What's the deal with you and Stacey?"

"I don't know," Brick replied. "I didn't know we were a deal."

"Come on. I know Butch is trying to set you up with her," Blossom said. "And it's obvious she is feeling you."

"She does?" Brick asked in disbelief.

"That's what usually happens when you get setup, Brick."

"Well, I wasn't aware of Butch's scheme, _so_."

"You weren't?"

"No."

"Oh. Well, then. Now you know," Blossom smiled sheepishly.

"Thanks," Brick said flatly.

"So what do you think? You're going to go for it?"

"For what? Stacey? No," Brick shook his head, meeting Blossom's eyes. "I have other things to focus on."

"Right," Blossom said slowly, nodding her head "So who are you going to the dance with then?"

Blossom was only asking the question to fully make sure Stacey and Brick would not become an item. So far, there was nothing for her to worry about.

Brick shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know."

"Seriously, Brick? There's gotta be someone you want to go with."

Blossom was corrected but Brick was not going to let her know that.

"I think I'll just go alone."

"You can't do that," Blossom said. "It's a part of the homecoming court rules. You have to go with someone."

"That's fucking bullshit."

"Tell me about it," Blossom rolled her eyes. "Freshmen and sophomore year, I was forced to go with guys that only went with me just so they can have sex with me."

"Classic fuckboys."

"Exactly," Blossom agreed, flipping her hair. "But seriously, Brick. Who are you going with?"

"Why do you care so much?" Brick questioned, feeling a slight excitement by it.

"I just… I don't want you kicked off the court," Blossom deflected, knowing her face was slowly growing red. "You have a real chance of winning, you know."

" _Right_ ," Brick sighed, downcasting his eyes. The only girl he wanted to be with was Blossom, so asking someone else to the dance made Brick feel like he was leading them on―he was well aware of the strangely, huge amount of attention he received from the female population at Townsville Academy. Brick felt like he could only bring a girl he was already friends with so they would not get the wrong idea but all his close female friends were in relationships already. He sighed again, accepting he only had one real option. "I guess I'll ask Stacey."

"Oh. That's _great,"_ Blossom replied through her teeth, trying to hide the frustration she felt.

Brick raised an eyebrow at her reaction, opening his mouth to ask her about it but was not able to as Robin finally called them to finish the walkthrough.

* * *

"Hey, what dress do you think I should wear?" Bubbles asked, walking into Blossom and Buttercup's dorm unannounced and throwing two dresses onto Blossom's vacant bed. "I kind of want to wear the red one because it would go with my skin tone but the light blue matches the theme."

The roommates raised an eyebrow at each other before Blossom turned to look at Bubbles' dresses, tapping her chin thoughtfully and taking the lead for the two―Buttercup was no expert on fashion at all.

"Go with the light blue," Blossom replied, smiling at Bubbles. "It brings out your eyes."

"But do you think I'm trying too hard to go with the theme, though?" Bubbles questioned, pouting her lips.

"No."

"What the fucking is even the theme?"

Blossom rolled her eyes, "Frozen in time," she said dully.

"Who fucking came up with that shit?" Buttercup questioned, crinkling her nose in disgust.

"Robin."

"Oh. Well, that explains a lot."

"Come on, guys," Bubbles smiled forcefully, pleading with for them to be nice. "It's not that bad."

"It's bad, Bubs."

"Doesn't even fucking snow here."

"And there's gonna be _so_ much blue. I don't think I can handle it."

"Robin probably got the idea by watching fucking _Frozen_ ," Buttercup laughed with Blossom joining.

Bubbles frowned at her friends, down-casting her eyes to her sandals, "I love _Frozen_ ," she mumbled.

When Buttercup calmed her laughter, she stared at the blonde's dresses, agreeing with Blossom's choice.

"But that's not important, Bubs," Buttercup grinned, moving her eyebrows suggestively. "What's more important is what you wear under it."

"Oooo, Buttercup is totally right," Blossom nodded.

"Why would that matter?" Bubbles asked innocently.

"For after dance activities, Bubs," Buttercup acknowledged. "Boomer is probably dying from anticipation."

"Huh?"

"She's talking about having sex, Bubbles," Blossom answered, sounding like mom.

"Why would we do that?" Bubbles asked nervously, wishing to change the subject immediately.

This was not the first time they asked Bubbles about her non-existent sex life. She always got extremely embarrassed by the subject matter. Bubbles can tell that her group of friends found it unbelievable she and Boomer have waited for so long but Bubbles had her reason for doing so.

After her mom passed away, Bubbles had trouble coping with the whole ordeal. To make things more difficult, she had to move across the country from Florida to California to live with her abuela—Bubbles' father has never been in her life and was not able to be tracked down, so her grandmother on her mom's side was next living kin to the blonde.

Her abuela embraced their Hispanic culture in any way possible, helping Bubbles connect with her Puerto Rican roots that her mother was not able to do. In addition, her abuela was a hugely devoted Catholic. At first, she had to drag Bubbles every Sunday and Wednesday to their local church but after her abuela signed Bubbles up for youth group, Bubbles started to understand and relate to their religion.

Bubbles has found her introduction to Catholicism as the true way she coped with her mother's death but also part of the reason why she was who she was today and has the values she possesses. And because of that, Bubbles had made a vow of celibacy until marriage to respect the values of her religion—and she has successfully maintained the vow despite having a boyfriend of three years who did not share the same religious values.

She did tell Boomer of her vow, and being the respectful guy that he is, Boomer had no problem with it. Bubbles has never felt pressed to have sex with him ever since they started dating—even though the furthest they ever done was making out with some groping over clothes, Boomer seemed satisfied by it.

That could not be said about her friends, who have been questioning Bubbles on her decision since she and Boomer celebrated their first anniversary. And while Bubbles has never told them about her vow—it was a detail of her life that Bubbles liked to keep private—she does not understand why they made it seem like Bubbles was an outcast for not wanting to have sex and like it was a norm to do so.

"Um, because it's been three-fucking-years, Bubs. Don't you think Boomer should be treated?"

"Yeah. And homecoming is one of the best excuses to do it," Blossom added, grinning and flipping her hair. "That's when Butch and I first tried things with each other."

"That's fucking gross, Pinky," Buttercup gagged.

Blossom shrugged, smirking at her dark-haired friend, "It's happens."

Buttercup rolled her eyes, landing them on Bubbles again, "Anyways, Bubs. I would just be prepared for Saturday. We're not trying to force you to do anything but you never know what might happen."

"Just wear matching underwear, okay?"

Bubbles nodded, even though she did not want to do anything they were talking about. And while, Bubbles wanted to maintain her vow of celibacy, hearing Blossom and Buttercup sound like she was depriving Boomer as if he was some unfed animal, made Bubbles feel guilty.

What if Boomer did want them to be more intimate?

What if she made him wait too long and he will try finding someone else who would be willing to do those things?

What if they do have sex and then Boomer breaks up with her afterward?

What if she dies a virgin?

She knew Blossom and Buttercup only meant well in their own weird way but their words made Bubbles feel more insecure than ever. This was supposed to be the best week of her life with her anniversary, homecoming, and being on the court but it was starting to feel like the worst.

* * *

Listening to the latest _Kendrick Lamar_ song through his headphones, Brick bopped his head rhythmically to the beat of the music as he waited for the rest of the team to get dressed. He was determined to remain focused the entire night, hoping it would help with impressing the college scouts. The thought of them coming just to see him added a serious amount of pressure he has never felt before from football, despite the extra amount of stress he has dealt with for the entire season so far.

Usually, football came to him like second nature, thus allowing Brick to go into games stressed-free and actually have fun unlike the rest of his teammates. But this year, Brick has acted like a second coach to the team with also having the extra task of being the one to bail them out whenever necessary in a game―which was all too often.

While the Townsville Academy's football team finally had a winning record―having won eight and lost two in overtime―Brick felt like there was going to be a point where they were going to crack. Especially with the amount of pressure he was feeling, Brick was afraid he would be the first one to do so. But Brick hid this from his teammates and everyone, fooling them with a false sense of confidence he usually has. The best part of it all, was he almost could fool himself too and the pressure he felt would dissipate just long enough until the game was over, in which was when all the stress would flood back into his system.

This was what Brick was trying to do in the moment, pushing the knowledge of the scouts out of his mind and putting all his focus on his music instead.

"Hey, bro." Butch tapped Brick's shoulder, staring down at the redhead. Brick, who did not hear what Butch said due to the volume of his music, raised an eyebrow while popping out an earbud. "Coach wants you to give a pep talk before we head out," Butch informed half-heartedly with a dash of jealously.

Pep talks before the game were traditionally done by the quarterback of the team but since Brick had more leadership responsibilities than Butch―responsibilities that should be Butch's―the team only responses and listens to Brick. A fact that disappointed and frustrated the hell out of Butch.

He waited all four years, trying to win the starting quarterback position and looked forward to being a leader on the field ever since freshmen year. His goal was quickly destroyed right after Brick stepped in and joined the team. Even though Butch was glad Brick was on the team, he wished Brick would just take a few steps back and let him have some control for once.

The whole situation proved Buttercup was right when she told Butch the team respected Brick more and the redhead was completing the duties that should be the quarterback's―pissing Butch off even more.

"I don't know, man. I'm kind of not in the mood."

"You sure?" Butch questioned with a hint of hopefulness.

Brick glanced around the locker room, noticing the rest of the team was waiting patiently for whatever he had to say. Inhaling deeply, Brick accepted the continuing responsibility he had.

"I'll give the pep talk," he sighed.

" _Great_ ," Butch replied through his teeth, taking a seat in his locker which was next to Brick's, resting his chin on the palm of his hand and shaking his leg impatiently.

Brick raised an eyebrow at Butch's obvious sour mood but brushed it off as he stood in the center of the locker room. Putting on his most confident smile, Brick's voice echoed throughout the space, speaking with authority and wisdom.

"Alright…" he clapped, turning up the charm and enthusiasm. "We've worked hard for this moment. We've earned the best record in our division for no reason other than hard work and practice," Brick paused, staring intensely around the room. "When I first arrived here, I thought this team was shit. There was no way of fixing whatever clusterfuck you all were―but this team has done a complete one-eighty. We finally have a running game-" The running backs started pumping their fists in the air. "The defense has proved themselves time and time again, coming in clutch whenever we needed to stop the other team from fucking score up on us-"

"Damn right!"

Brick grinned widely, continuing, "I think this is the best fucking wide receiver group I've seen in all my years of playing. And no one has been on their A-game more than Mr. Clutch," Brick gestured to Jimmy, their kicker and the only player who did not have to change his way of playing. His shout-out got everyone in the room to applaud him. Brick grinned more, proud of how the team was celebrating each other and the overall positivity they had but Brick exhaled loudly, knowing it was now time to talk about the elephant in the room. "And while I'm sure we're all aware why everyone outside of this fucking locker room believes why this team is winning now." The guys in the room changed from broad-smiles to straight faces, some nodding, listening to Brick attentively. "But I want to say, they don't fucking know shit because this all has been a team effort and nothing else. We've all been working like a well-oiled machine, grinding each and every day. From our run game to explosive plays on the defense and offense, from Fuzzy's… _Eclectic_ way of coaching-"

"Wat'cha tryin' to say, boy?" Fuzzy questioned, grinning amusingly at the redhead while the rest of the team laughed along.

Brick shook his head, ignoring Fuzzy's question and smiling, "But most importantly, none of this could have been done if it wasn't for our quarterback-" Brick turned back to Butch, seeing the dark-haired male forcing a smile while the rest of the team clapped halfheartedly, not believing Brick's attempt to include Butch. Brick turned back to the rest of the team, smiling confidently again, "And even though I've only been here for a couple of months now, I'm never been more proud to say I'm apart of a team than I am to say that I'm a Townsville Titan," Brick roared, getting the room more hyped. "As a team, we will finally beat those Citiesville Cougars and be the legendary team this school will always remember! Now, let me hear how you feel about that?" Brick asked loudly, completing the traditionally question at the end that is used for all of their pep talks.

" _Damn right_!" All the players shouted at the top of their lungs except for Butch, who just mumbled the saying.

"Then let's go play some motherfucking football!" Brick shouted enthusiastically, bringing everyone to their feet and starting the group huddle they always do before every game.

While Brick stood in the middle where the quarterback would usually be, jumping up and down with the rest of them, Butch stood off to side by his locker, waiting impatiently for the team and rolling his eyes at the team's pre-game nonsense.

At this point, Butch could not wait for football season to be over with. At least he had basketball and soccer to look forward to.

"Alright, boys. It's time to kick those Citiesville playah's asses," Coach Lumpkins announced after breaking the huddle, motioning for the team to head out of the locker room. The team followed, each putting on their helmets as they exited the room. The last two to leave were Brick and Butch―Brick felt like it was no coincidence they were.

"Hey. You okay, bro?" Brick asked while putting his helmet on.

Butch nodded, not making eye contact, "Just want to get this game over with."

"Feeling is mutual," Brick muttered with his stomach starting to form knots from the reality of the situation. This game could be the deciding factor in whether his dreams come true or not.

* * *

"Fuck man!" Butch shouted as Citiesville scored a touchdown, tying the score once again.

The game was in the fourth quarter with two minutes remaining. Townsville had an early lead in the first quarter with two touchdowns—one from Brick and the other was because of him getting constant first downs before Butch ran the ball in. In the second quarter, Citiesville tied the game before TA added another touchdown to take the lead again. After that, no plays were made until now with the star running back on the other team ran sixty yards into the end zone.

"It's fine. We've been in this situation before," Brick replied calmly, trying to convince himself more than Butch.

"You really fucking think we can do this, bro?" Butch questioned skeptically as Citiesville punted the ball. As much as he hates to admit it, Brick was the only way they can end up victorious in this situation and if Brick has faith in the team, then Butch will give it his all like Brick always does.

Brick stared onto the field, watching one of their teammates run to their own twenty-yard line before being brought down. A strong silence consumed the two with only the echoing of the cheerleader's chippy voices being heard as Butch waited for Brick's answer. Brick glanced to the offensive linemen taking the field already, more confident than ever, making Brick grin in response. He quickly put his helmet on.

"Of course I do," Brick responded, jogging onto the field. Butch shook his head, smiling softly and following the redhead, who seemingly convinced him to continue on.

On the field, the offense formed a huddle, looking at Brick to call their next move.

"What are we doing? What play are we going with?" Jason, one of the receivers, asked the redhead.

Brick shook his head, pointing towards Butch, "You know, I'm not the quarterback. So ask Butch."

Butch flickered his eyes to Brick, staring at him in disbelief while the redhead smiled softly, patting his dark-haired friend's shoulder.

Butch nodded, moving eyes back and forward around the circle of men as he gave directions, "Okay, we're going try making constant first downs until we're in field goal range with Alpha and Beta routes. From there, we'll let Jimmy come in and hopefully win this game for us. Got it?"

"Got it!" They all said in unison, taking their positions on the yard line.

Brick, stopping at his place for the route, looked back to his quarterback, trying to ignore the nagging voice in his head telling him to forget Butch's plan and try getting the winning score for himself.

In a minute-thirty, the offense moved into field goal territory, forty yards away from Citiesville's endzone. The crowd was gaining more confidence and feeling a sense of relief, roaring with excitement. Butch called a timeout, forming another huddle to inform the team to burn the clock down by twenty seconds, opting to run the ball until it was time to kick a field goal.

Brick frowned at Butch's decision, pulling the Brazilian to the side before their time-out was done.

"Do you think we can still throw it?" Brick questioned, sounding desperate and breathing a little heavily from the last play.

"Why? This will give us a better chance of winning."

Brick hesitated, fully agreeing with Butch's logic but selfishly, wanted to go against it to secure the chances of his future.

"Look, I didn't want to bring this up, but there are scouts here and I really fucking need to impress them or I might as well quit football now."

"Fuck."

"I know."

"Why didn't you tell me? That's a lot to dealing with."

"I didn't want to make it about me," Brick answered, noting they had twenty more seconds before having to resume the game. "But now I have to, so can we?"

"Brick, I'm sorry but-"

"You're really not going to help me?" Brick snapped, glaring at the dark-haired male.

"I can't-"

" _Fine_ ," Brick answered harshly, turning on his heel and jogging over to the other members of the offense, forming another huddle. It took Butch a few seconds to realize what the redhead was doing before he broke the circle up but by then, it was already too late. Brick had told the others Butch was going to throw the ball.

"What the fuck, bro?" Butch questioned, pushing Brick in the chest as the referee informed them that they were starting again.

"Guess you better fucking throw now," Brick said smugly, smirking as he took his place.

Butch glared at the redhead, yelling out the commands to the offense. Catching the ball from one of his linemen and taking a few steps back, Butch wanted to sabotage Brick's chance by not throwing at him—it would be a way to get back at the redhead for stealing his responsibilities but also taking his teammates away from him. Darting back and forward, Butch searched for an open receiver.

There was only one open, and it was Brick.

The redhead tripped up his defender, gaining a good distance from any one on the other team and was simply waiting for Butch to throw the ball.

Exhaling deeply, Butch slung his arm back, realizing there was only one way for Townsville to win this game—which was his first priority and not some petty bullshit. Moving his arm forward, Butch released the ball, completing a perfect spiral.

However, it was overthrow again, appearing as it was likely to go right pass Brick's head.

Not wanting to let down the school—and lose any of his scholarship opportunities—Brick, once again, leaped into the air, stopping the ball with the tip of his fingers habitually, and wrapped his hands around the leathery ball. Landing onto the ground, he turned, running faster than he has ever ran before in his life into the end zone as the clock on the scoreboard in front of him reached zero.

A silence fell throughout the field and the bleachers, shocked by the events that just transpired.

Townsville Academy had won it's first game against Citiesville Prep.

When the realization came to the student body of the Academy, they all began screaming at the top of their lungs, running onto the field and celebrating with the team as if they had won the _Super Bowl_.

Blossom, being a cheerleader and having an easier path to the field, was one of the first to rush onto the field, knowing exactly who she was heading towards to celebrate.

"Oh my God, we won!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around the male, who just took off his helmet, and hugging him tightly, not even caring about the amount of sweat covering his body. "I told you that you were amazing."

"You did," he replied, tightly wrapping his arms around Blossom to hug her back. "Thanks for believing in me, Bloss."

"Anytime, Brick" Blossom smiled. " _Anytime_."

Brick smiled too, unable to understand the amount of happiness he was experiencing. Not only did he help Townsville win their first true homecoming game against Citiesville, but played an excellent game that could possibly have won him scholarships; and now he was hugging Blossom, knowing she came to him first and not Butch.

It might be greedy but Brick knew the only other thing that would make this night even more incredible, and it was letting Blossom know how he felt and her feeling the same way. And Brick knew it was a longshot but at the moment, he was running off of adrenaline and felt invincible.

"Hey, Bloss. There's actually something have to tell you," Brick whispered into her ear, making Blossom raise an eyebrow, still keeping a hold around his neck.

"What do you have to tell me, Brick?"

"I… I li-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Blossom quickly dropped her hold on him, leaving his side abruptly with a flushed face, and rushing to somewhere else. Brick raised an eyebrow at her actions, turning around to see whatever might have freaked her out, only to see Butch standing ten feet away from him—now with Blossom by his side, who similarly, throw her arms around him too but instead of hugging, she pulled Butch into a kiss.

Not wanting to ruin the joy he felt, Brick quickly turned away, deciding to celebrate with the rest of his classmates. However, before he could, a tall, older gentlemen wearing a crimson-red t-shirt and khakis stopped him.

"You're Brick Adams, right?"

Brick nodded, "Yes, sir."

The men stuck out his hand and said, "Hi, I'm Brian Butler and I'm apart of the Stanford University recruitment program."

Brick raised an eyebrow excitedly, shaking the man's hand eagerly, "Really?"

"Yes," the man smiled. "I was wondering if we could have a quick chat? I promise it wouldn't be too long."

"Yeah, definitely. Take all the time you need," Brick replied, following the man off the field and engaging in a deep conversation.

A few feet away, Butch watched the interaction happen after pulling away from Blossom, feeling a sense of resentment at the redhead seemingly always getting what he wanted. His frustrated was obvious as it was painted onto to his facial expression.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

Butch glanced down at his girlfriend who had a concerned look in her eyes. For some reason, Blossom's expression furthered his anger at Brick. Seeing them hug was a weird and speechless moment for Butch as he did not expect it.

It also made him question why Blossom chose to hug Brick first and not him. But not wanting to start any problems on a night that was supposed to be about celebration, Butch forced smile, tucking a few strands of hair behind Blossom's ear.

"Nothing's wrong, babe."

* * *

Butch stared down at the only two ties he owned, trying to figure out which one to wear to the dance which was taking place in less than an hour. Blossom asked—more like demanded—for Butch to subtlety match her but he did not believe any of his ties went with her dress color.

The soft blush tone of her dress so did not go with a blue, yellow, and green striped tie or an electric green one.

Butch sighed out of frustration, throwing the pieces of cloth into his pile of dirty clothes. He sunk onto his bed, trying to think of someone who would have a tie that matched Blossom's dress.

Boomer would not have any because he "doesn't believe in restrictive" clothing. Ace did not own any formal wear—he was probably going to show up wearing jeans and a t-shirt if he shows up at all to the dance. And Mitch only has one tie, and he was more than likely wearing it tonight.

While there was large of amount of guys Butch was cool with enough for them to let him borrow a tie, he did not feel like bothering them about it.

Rubbing his temples, Butch hoped Blossom would not be too pissed if he was not dressed to her usual standards—coming from a high-class family, Blossom always dressed to the occasion and made sure whoever she was with, also did too.

Butch glanced over to his roommate, wondering if Brick was just as stressed out as he was. Dressed in black slacks, a crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and tucked in, paired with a slim, burgundy tie, Brick was stretched out on his bed; he was consumed in a text conversation, rapidly responding after every five seconds, not seeming to have a care in the world.

Butch wished he shared the same feeling but also, it was the first time Butch had gotten a good look at Brick since last night before the redhead went against his wishes. In that moment, Butch finally understood the reality of what has been happening.

Brick was the sole reason the team was winning and there was no stopping him from doing so. He was not only trying to win the game but most importantly, lay out his future. Butch, now, had no problem with the redhead's selfish motivations—it did win Townsville the game in the most epic fashion.

It also seemed to work, as Butch did notice a couple of men approaching Brick, one after the other, pitching their individual colleges to him.

Butch can not be more happy and proud of his friend. This was Brick's dream and it appeared to be going in the right direction. And Butch wanted to tell him all of this, but he could not.

The roommates have not spoken to each other since the game—mainly because of Butch's, now expired, resentment. But since Butch was over it, they should be able to speak again.

Except for the fact, something inside of him could not get over the "moment" between Brick and Blossom. Butch did not think there was much to it, just friends celebrating a high stakes win, but the whole thing simply did not sit well with him.

"Hey," Brick said, breaking their silence and stopping Butch's train of thoughts. The redhead stared at his roommate, raising an eyebrow, "Are we good?"

That was a question Burch did not completely know the answer to. Since Brick has gotten here, Butch has considered him a close and trustworthy friend but after last night, his whole opinion might have changed. But maybe it was because Butch had gotten worked up over nothing and was making it more personal than he should—that was what usually happened when Butch has had a problem with someone. It was a trait he was working on changing, and this situation with Brick was just a test for him to display the growth he was making. Plus, his friendship with Brick was something he did not want to sabotage at all.

Butch nodded, smiling, "Yeah, we're good."

Brick grinned in response, throwing a piece of cloth over to Butch's side, "Good, cause I saw you struggling over there and I wanted help so bad but it was too fucking awkward."

Butch caught the silky material, examining it. The olive green tone of the tie matched well with his black button down and black pants―he borrowed them from Brick again―but also seemed to go with Blossom's dress as he held it up against the photo reference on his phone.

"Dude. This is fucking perfect," Butch exclaimed.

"Great," Brick responded, shoving his phone in his back pocket, getting up from the bed, putting on and lacing up a pair of shiny, black oxfords. He then placed his signature red hat on his desk before heading for the door. Opening the door, he stopped midway, turning back to Butch, "I'm going meet up with Stacey. If Blossom isn't into the tie, I have few more on my side of the closet to switch it out with—But I think she'll like that one. She really loves neutral tones."

"Thanks, bro."

"No problem," the redhead said before closing the door and leaving Butch alone.

Butch stood on his feet, standing in front of the mirror that was attached to the bathroom door, grinning widely. Tightening the loop on his tie, Butch thought he looked fine as fuck.

There was no way Blossom was not going to be impressed with him tonight. And with Blossom on his mind again, a question flowed freely into his conscious.

Since when was Brick an expert on what Blossom loves?

* * *

"What's up, Townsville?" The DJ asked eagerly for the third time that night, staring into the crowd of unrecognizable faces. "How are we doing tonight?" A few shouted back in return, saying they were doing good―they were mainly from the homecoming committee, trying to break the awkwardness―while the rest looked at the man with unamused faces. "Alrighty then. Let's get this dance started!"

"Who the fuck hired this guy?" Buttercup asked, shouting over an overplayed _Justin Bieber_ song. "He sucks ass already."

"It was Robin," Mitch mumbled, rolling his eyes at his girlfriend's remark.

"That makes a lot of fucking sense," Buttercup chuckled, anticipating for Mitch to join her too but he did not.

Instead, the brunet stared off in the distance, not choosing to pay any attention to his girlfriend. "I'm going to get something to drink," Mitch muttered before swiftly leaving Buttercup alone. He quickly navigated himself through the dance floor to the refreshment table, keeping a steady eye on the blue-eyed, brunette keeping a tight eye on the punch bowl. "Hey, Robin," he croaked as his face became extremely flushed. "Why aren't you dancing?"

"I have to monitor the bowl in case of any foreign substances," she frowned, staring longingly at the dance floor. "Just some of the perks of being in charge of the homecoming committee."

"Blossom never had to do any of this shit when she was in charge."

"That's because Blossom is treated like royalty here," Robin said, giving Mitch a face to express how obvious the answer was going to be. "There's no way they would let her do any of this," she gestured towards the punch bowl and sighed.

"That's not fair, though," Mitch argued. "Blossom shouldn't use her popularity to get out of things."

"Mitch, where have you been for the past four years?" Robin questioned, raising her overly-plucked eyebrow. "That's exactly what you're supposed to do when you're popular."

"Then we need to find a way to take it from her," he suggested like it was a simple task to do.

" _We_?" Robin asked, raising both of her eyebrows but with a hint of pinkish in her cheeks.

"Yeah. We," Mitch shrugged, becoming more flushed.

Robin nodded slowly, trying to grasp the situation, "Well, um. That's not going to be an easy task."

"I know. We'll figure something out later," Mitch grinned, pulling on the collar of his shirt as he was hit with a wave of nervousness and heat. "But for now, do you want to get the hell out of here?"

"Mitch!" Robin whispered harshly, looking side to side to make sure no one was listening―of course, no one was paying attention to them. "You have a girlfriend!"

"What? I just wanted to take a walk," Mitch fumbled. "It would give you a break from this shit."

"I don't know. I have to watch the bowl," Robin contemplated, staring at the blue liquid disappointingly.

"Seriously? I'm pretty sure everyone here has had some type of fucking alcohol in their system before," Mitch challenged, taking a step closer to her. "It's not that big of a fucking deal."

The brunette broke her gaze from the punch bowl, staring into Mitch's dark brown eyes that were twinkling from the lighting. She smiled softly, nodding, "You're right. Let's get out of here."

"As you wish," Mitch grinned, eagerly following her out of the gymnasium.

* * *

Buttercup huffed loudly, crossing her arms and staring angrily at the dance floor as she took a seat at the table consisting of her friends.

"What's wrong, Butters?" Blossom, who was sitting on Butch's lap, asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing important," Buttercup dismissed, shaking her head at the redhead, warning her to drop the subject. Blossom nodded, figuring Buttercup will tell her after the dance. However, Bubbles did not catch the hint the two best friends silently agreed on.

"You sure?" Bubbles continued, expressing a deep concern. "You seem really upset."

"Bubs. Stop worrying about me and start worrying about whether your boyfriend wants to remain a virgin or not," Buttercup snapped out of frustration.

Bubbles' whole body froze by Buttercup's comment but felt slightly relieved Boomer was currently in the bathroom. A silence fell over the table and when Bubbles saw Boomer's floppy blond hair through the crowd, she instantly stood up and rushed over to him without saying a word.

"Buttercup!" Blossom scowled.

"What?" Buttercup shrugged, ignoring Blossom's judgmental stare. "Don't act so innocent, Blossom." She leaned into the table, staring intensely into Blossom's pink eyes. "You're not that _great_ of an actress."

Blossom simply raised an eyebrow, trying to seem unfazed by Buttercup's remark but deep down, it freaked her the hell out. She knew that Buttercup was implying about something else―or perhaps many other things.

Blossom kept her cool, ignoring Buttercup's stare and turning to look her boyfriend in eye, staring lovingly at him.

"I love your tie, baby," Blossom commented, lightly tracing the outline of the material.

"I'm glad," Butch said smoothly with a smirk but still could not get over Brick's behavior earlier. Blossom tugged on "his" tie, pulling Butch closer to her and kissing him. She knew this would cause Buttercup to leave, which happened when the green-eyed girl gagged at the sight of the couple and quickly fled the table.

When the two parted, Blossom grinned at the absence of her friend. She happily applied lip gloss to replace the amount that wore off from the kiss when Butch raised an eyebrow at Buttercup's disappearance, realizing Blossom's tactic.

"Robin went really cheap with the decor," Blossom commented, crinkling her nose in dissatisfaction as she stared at the fake icicle streamers.

"Yeah," Butch mumbled, not really listening to his girlfriend and mindlessly rubbing circles into her back. "Hey, what was Buttercup implying?"

Butch did not want to ask the question but Blossom had to have a reason why for wanting to get rid of Buttercup―plus, Buttercup was generally truthful about everything, so there had to be a reason behind it.

Blossom rolled her eyes, "She's just upset about how things are going with Mitch. So Buttercup is just going to try cutting anyone down to make them be as miserable as her."

"Ouch."

"What?" Blossom shrugged. "It's the truth."

"Yeah, but that's your best friend, babe. You're being pretty brutal."

"Since when do care about what's said about Buttercup?" Blossom argued.

"I don't," He said quickly and then sighing. Butch knew he had to drop the subject or the two will end up arguing, "It's whatever, babe."

"That's what I thought," Blossom smirked, pulling Butch into another kiss.

* * *

"Can I get everyone's attention?" The DJ exclaimed through the microphone, cutting the music off. The crowd of high school students stared unamused again, waiting impatiently for him to finish. The DJ forced a smile, wondering if the pay was worth this experience, continuing, "We introduced your homecoming court nominees earlier in the night, and now it's time to announce your Homecoming King and Queen!"

For the first time, the crowd acted with enthusiasm to what the DJ had to say. Bubbles smiled nervously, holding onto Boomer's arm tightly as she waited for the reveal. Brick and Stacy waited on the dance floor with Stacey's arms draped around Brick from behind as Brick tried to ignore her advances. Blossom rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. Butch grinned, turning to Blossom, hoping she would have the same response. He frowned greatly when Blossom did not share the same reaction nor was paying attention to him.

The DJ was handed an envelope, ripping it up quickly. He continued to smile forcibly, reading off the two names on the ballot, "Your Homecoming Queen is… Rosemarie Blanchette!"

Blossom raised an eyebrow, and for a split second, she thought about leaving the dance but when she saw all the eyes land of her, clapping passionately, Blossom knew she could not. She stood from Butch's lap, smiling tightly as Butch led her to the stage, kissing his girlfriend before Blossom stepped onto the stage. He then waited patiently for the DJ to announce his name.

Once on the stage, some sophomore on the Homecoming committee placed a new but familiar plastic jeweled tiara, which was designed with light blue gems, on the crown of Blossom's head, and draping the Homecoming Queen sash around her. She maintained her tight smile, feeling the well-known emotion of being overwhelmed as everyone in the room stared up at her.

"And your Homecoming King is," the DJ continued. Butch grinned more, feeling confident his name will be called as Buttercup came out of the crowd, deciding to stand next to him, smiling amusingly. He was not aware of her presence, keeping his eyes glued on Blossom. "... Brick Adams!"

Butch's mouth became agape, flickering his eyes over to the loud cheers in the middle of the dance floor. The football team surrounded Brick, each one patting his back as the redhead made his way to the stage―it was funny how Butch did not remember them ever doing that when he won Homecoming Prince last year―while the girls in passing smiled flirty at him, even if they had a date.

"How the fuck did this happen?" Butch mumbled to himself.

Buttercup smirked, "He won us the homecoming game." Butch whipped his head towards Buttercup, surprised to hear her voice. She ignored his reaction, continuing, "But mainly because he's Mr. Perfect and the people here only vote for those who are artificial."

" _Artificial_?" Butch raised an eyebrow. This time, he definitely knew the dark-haired girl was making a reference towards his girlfriend. "What do you mean by that?"

Buttercup dropped her smile, inhaling deeply. "Butch, as much as I don't like you," she paused, having a battle within herself on whether she should reveal this information to him or let Butch find out it on his own. Buttercup decided to go with the most honest choice, "But you should know that Blossom isn't-"

"Townsville, let's hear it for your Homecoming King and Queen!" The DJ shouted over the microphone, cutting off Buttercup and leaving an extremely curious Butch. The DJ gestured to the winners, speaking into the microphone, "And it's time for the first dance!"

Brick held out his hand, helping Blossom down the stairs until they stopped in the middle of the dance floor where a circle had been formed around them. As the first guitar riffles from _Thinking Out Loud_ played over the speakers, Brick placed his hands tightly on Blossom's waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck, staring into each other's eyes while swaying rhythmically to the song.

Like Butch, Brick was shocked he won, considering he had just moved to Townsville almost two months ago but the redhead was not going to argue. He was now able to dance with the one girl he truly wanted. The only disadvantage was everyone was to watching―including her boyfriend.

Butch grimaced at the two, forming fists at the sight of Brick's hands being firmly placed on Blossom's waist. But what frustrated him the most, was the look Brick was giving her. It was a look that was full of passion and desire—it was the look Butch would give Blossom all the time.

His frustration was easily noticeable to Buttercup. She nudged his arm, breaking his stare on the duo, and exhaling loudly. "Don't like the look he has, do ya?"

"Fuck no," Butch mumbled, feeling a twist a jealously from it even though Blossom was his girlfriend.

"You know why, right?"

Butch raised an eyebrow, "Know what?"

Buttercup folded her arms, fighting within herself again on whether to reveal information to him but mainly, whether if she wanted to change the nature of Butch's relationship with both Blossom and Brick. Not wanting to remain silent on the topic―which she realized within the third week of school―anymore, Buttercup gained a brush of courage, "Brick is into Blossom."

Butch's eyes widened, pulling Buttercup to the side so no one would hear their conversation. "What the fuck are you saying?"

"Brick likes your girlfriend," she said flatly. "It's pretty obvious."

Butch shook his head, "That can't be. Brick is with Stacey. And- And- And he's my bro," he stuttered. "Bros don't go for other bro's girls."

Buttercup rolled her eyes at Butch's reasoning, "Fine, don't believe me. But there's no denying when you see how he looks at her, so you either do something with the information or just ignore it," Buttercup shrugged before walking back into the circle of people.

Butch shook his head, trying to forget what Buttercup just told him but when his eyes landed on Blossom and Brick again, and Brick continued to stare at Blossom like she was the most valuable thing in the world, Butch could not help but believe it was true. And while Butch might have been aware of Brick's true feelings, the rest of the crowd did not seem to think of the possibility as their King and Queen continued to dance.

"They really like to stare here, huh?" Brick whispered into Blossom's ear.

She rolled her eyes, grinning a little, "It's annoying right?"

Brick nodded, "I can see why you're not fond of this anymore."

"Yeah," Blossom mumbled, wanting to avoid the true nature of that subject, and making awkward eye contact with Stacy, who stared enviously at her again. Blossom smiled victoriously at the sight as she was able to mark Brick as her territory. "So... After tonight, are you going to reconsider your opinion on you and Stacey?"

"Oh, totally," Brick nodded. "Once she told me that she thought _Frozen_ was based on a true story and said it was because of Global Warming, I just _knew_ she was a keeper."

"Sound like a perfect match to me," Blossom giggled, tightening her hold on his neck.

She brushed her fingernails against his hair. This was actually the first time Blossom has seen Brick without his hat or his hair not being completely drenched in sweat from practice or a game. His hair was a more of a rusty tone of red, and in certain lighting, she was sure he could pass as a brunet. Blossom was also a fan of his haircut, which was shaped into a pompadour. She found him to be very handsome without his hat—although she already found him to be even with the hat.

"Nope." He pulled her closer, looking more intensely into her eyes, "I think my perfect match is someone else."

"They must be one hell of a girl then," she commented, laying her head in the crook of his neck, not caring about the eyes on them.

"She _definitely_ is."

"Why didn't you ask her to the dance instead?" Blossom asked, quietly, closing her eyes and taking in the smell of cinnamon from his cologne.

Brick downcasted his eyes, thinking about their hug on the football field. He almost told her the truth but somehow, Brick was happy everything did not go in that direction. Because, maybe if it did happen, Brick would not be in the position he was in now. But a strong desire within him just wanted to tell her. Brick hated keeping his emotions all trapped inside of him, and how Blossom was practically wrapped around him again, maybe the feeling was mutual.

As the last notes played on the speakers, Brick whispered lowly to Blossom, "I wanted to go with you."

Blossom's eyes snapped open, quickly removing her head from his shoulder, and before she could respond, the song ended with the crowd returning to the dance floor, and Brick disappearing within the chaos.

* * *

"Oh my God, I love high heels but dancing in them can be a real killer on my feet," Bubbles exasperated, taking a seat on her bed and gladly pulling her heels off.

Boomer chuckled, taking a seat next to her, "I guess it's a good thing we didn't stay the whole time then."

Bubbles sighed, pretending it was because of her shoes but really it was because of Buttercup's comment. Bubbles decided to leave the dance an hour early after the crowning, not feeling the event anymore. Boomer, wanting to please his girlfriend, agreed and walked her back to her dorm. But now the reality of the night was catching up to Bubbles as the couple was both on her bed. This was the opportunity Buttercup and Blossom were hinting at the other day, and all her insecurities flooded her mind again.

Placing a hand firmly on Boomer's thigh, Bubbles leaned forward, pressing her lips against his, deciding this will be it.

This will be the moment they both lose their virginity.

While she pressed to move things faster, Boomer was hesitant, pulling away from his girlfriend and stopping her from continuing. Staring into her blue eyes and pushing a few loose strands behind her ear, Boomer knew something was up with his girlfriend.

"Bubs, what's going on?"

"Nothing," she lied, reaching a higher octave. "I'm just trying to take our relationship to the next level."

Boomer shook his head, "That's not what you want, Bubbles."

"How do you know? We've been together for three years now. Maybe we should celebrate," she rambled quickly, becoming extremely flushed and feeling as if Boomer was rejecting her.

"Because I know how strongly you feel about your celibacy," Boomer spoke softly, cupping her face. "And I know that it's very special to you. So you shouldn't let others get in your pretty, little head thinking this is what we're supposed to do."

Bubbles raised an eyebrow, taken back and embarrassed by the situation. "How do you-"

"Butch has been doing the same thing to me for the last week or so," Boomer interjected, shrugging. "And Bubs, I don't care if everyone thinks it weird or think they know what's best for us because they aren't us and they don't know shit about our relationship."

"Boomer–"

"I love _you,_ Bubbles. Nothing is going to change that," Boomer stated firmly, smiling brightly at his girlfriend. "I would wait until we're eighty if I have to, just so I can be with you."

Bubbles could not help but smile contiguously, kissing Boomer's nose, "You're too cute."

"I think you're more cute, babe."

Bubbles giggled, lacing their hands together, "Maybe."

"More like _definitely_."

* * *

"Alright Townsville, this is the last call," the DJ said eagerly, happy to get the night over with. "So better get yourself on the dance floor for the last song of the night."

"They really cheaped out on the DJ this year," Butch commented, swaying with Blossom to the beat of the music. Blossom nodded slowly, not really paying attention to Butch.

Her eyes were across the dancefloor where a certain redhead was doing the same with Stacey. The Latina held tightly onto Brick, seeming at bliss while Brick stared off into the distance, looking deep in thought.

It was not until his eyes landed on Blossom, did Brick show any emotion, smiling softly at her. She quickly raised an eyebrow, shifting her eyes somewhere else.

For an hour now, Brick's comment has been trapped in her mind, making her think of all the possible reasons why he would have said it. She did not want to accept the reality of it, going for obscure reasoning but always came back to the one big answer.

The thought made her panic, which was extremely noticeable on her face—an unusual occurrence as Blossom was a master at hiding her emotions.

"Babe, what's wrong?" Butch asked, expressing concern.

Blossom glanced back to Brick, whose eyes were lost in the space, stuck in deep thought again, and then glanced back to Butch, who gazed down to her with his emerald eyes full of love.

Blossom shook her head, forcing a smile, "Nothing's wrong."


	7. Faithfully

"When Townsville Academy first opened, it was originally established as a private, all male, Catholic high school. This all changed when Principal Him transferred here with the decision to include everyone to the excellent educational experience at TA, despite gender or religious beliefs," Ms. Keane explained to a room full of bored students—they all have heard this story at least ten times in the last four years. Only Brick seemed interested, as this was his first time hearing this part of the school's history.

"Are we doing a project on non-discrimination, Ms. Keane?" Dexter asked energetically. "Because I just finished reading a delightful sociology textbook and would love to share a plethora of my discoveries."

Ms. Keane smiled awkwardly, not wanting to lose Dexter's interest in the assignment. "No, we're not."

"So stupid," Dexter rambled quietly to himself, glaring at the dark-haired teacher.

"Okay then," Ms. Keane forced a smile, brushing off Dexter's comments. "This week's assignment will be about religion and what it means to you."

A few students raised their eyebrows at the topic, while others nodded their heads eagerly and were already writing down some ideas.

"Ms. Keane, I don't mean to overstep," Blossom said, who rarely spoke during Ms. Keane's class, had the everyone's eyes and ears.

"Go on, Ms. Blanchette."

Blossom nodded, continuing, "Isn't discussing religion against the law?"

Ms. Keane shook her head, "I am not forcing you to practice in any religious activities. We're just discussing opinions on the topic, and the possibly subsections of it." She smiled brightly, " _Perfectly_ legal."

" _Great_ ," Blossom huffed, slumping into her seat.

"And what if you don't practice any religion?" Buttercup asked dully. Blossom and Brick listen attentively to Ms. Keane's answer.

"Have you participated in any form of religion when you were younger?"

Buttercup rolled her eyes and reluctantly said, "Yeah."

Her answer made Bubbles rise in her chair out of curiosity. In the years she has known Buttercup, the green-eyed girl had always detested religion but Bubbles figured it was because she was an atheist. Learning that Buttercup did practice a former religion, greatly intrigued the blonde.

"Then write about your experience and what the religion means to you."

Buttercup sighed loudly at Ms. Keane's response.

* * *

"Keane's assignment has me fucked up," Brick complained, stabbing his macaroni salad aggressively.

"Agreed," Buttercup sighed, slumping more into the wooden bench of the picnic table.

"It's not that bad guys," Bubbles argued from the other side of table. "I actually think it's very interesting."

"That's because your grandma made you a bible thumper," Buttercup mumbled with Brick trying to hold back his laughter by shoving food into his mouth.

"Real mature Buttercup," Bubbles seethed, staring unamused at the green-eyed girl. Buttercup simply shrugged her shoulders in respond with a small grin.

"I don't think Ms. Keane is really prepared for the amount of conflict this assignment is going to cause," Brick added, easing the tension between the two girls.

"What do you mean?"

Brick shrugged, "I mean, how many wars have been caused because of religious affiliation? Acts of discrimination? Laws against certain religions? Not to much, the mass genocides?"

Bubbles blinked at the question, "I don't know. A lot?"

"Exactly. _A lot_ ," Brick said. "And considering we're just "immature" high school students, it's going to be chaos afterwards."

"Hey, I'm all for the arguing if it doesn't involve me," Buttercup joked.

"But that's not what religion is about," Bubbles pouted. "It's about peace and acceptance. It's supposed to be about enlightenment, and guiding you on your path in life, and give you a sense of hope."

Buttercup rolled her eyes and looking at the blonde as if she was the dumbest thing alive, "Religion is just full of hypocrisy and lies that prey on naive or hopeless."

"Buttercup!" Bubbles gasped, sounding as if Buttercup had murdered someone.

"What?" she asked irritably.

"You can't honestly believe that. That's just… that's just _sad_ ," Bubbles responded, feeling completely distressed by Buttercup even having those thoughts.

"Um, that's how I feel about religion too," Brick added quietly, breaking the blonde's intense stare on Buttercup. Buttercup glanced at him too, raising an eyebrow.

" _How_? What terrible thing happened to you that ruined religion for both of you?" Bubbles exasperated.

"When you only see the negatives of what religion can do, you would share the same beliefs," Brick answered, gaining curious eyes from Bubbles and even Buttercup. He sighed, knowing he will have to explain himself more. "I used to be Catholic like you, Bubbles."

"Then how could you believe that?" Bubbles asked. Brick raised an eyebrow, signaling he was getting there. Bubbles smiled sheepishly, motioning for him to continue.

"Growing up in Boston, being Catholic is a huge deal. So me and my mom went to this small, very traditional Catholic church every Sunday until she tried to get me to participate in the youth group. Apparently, none of parents wanted me or my mom having a deep connection within the church because she had me out of wedlock," Brick explained. "They bullied her to leave our church—a place that she's been going to since she was 12. After that, it left a bad taste in my mouth and I just didn't want to be involved anymore, and neither did my mom."

Bubbles nodded, trying to wrap her mind around his story. "But Brick, I'm not trying to discredit your story or anything, but you never really got to experience what religion truly is."

"What do you mean?"

"You let others influence your views before you truly connected with what it is to be Catholic. Your opinion is shaped based on humanity and not religion."

Brick exchanged looks with Buttercup, who also did not know what to say. He then raised his eyebrow, not understanding how he actually agreed with the blonde on what she was saying. "...Well you do have a point, Bubbles."

Bubbles smiled brightly as an idea popped up instantly in her head. "Oooo, how about this? I'm going to mass on Wednesday and you should totally come with me."

The idea of attending church was not entirely appealing to Brick, while he was also wary of spending time alone with Bubbles. Even though they were friends, they have yet to ever have a one-on-one interaction, and Brick was not sure what the dynamic between them would be like.

However, he did think joining her would be an intelligent decision. It would help him with his paper for Ms. Keane's class while also gaining a new experience.

"You know what, Bubbles. I'll actually take you up on that offer."

Bubbles clapped eagerly, widening her smile, "Yay! I promise to show you the actual true values of Catholicism."

"Bet."

Bubbles continued to smile, turning to Buttercup, "And you should come too."

"Never going to happen," Buttercup said matter-factually.

"Why not?"

"I said no, Bubbles. Don't push it," she said through her teeth.

"But-"

"I said don't push it," Buttercup threatened.

Bubbles sighed at her response, slumping her shoulder in sorrow.

* * *

"I don't understand why she chose this topic," Blossom complained as she finished ranting to Butch about Ms. Keane's assignment. She nuzzled her head more into the crook of his neck, while having her leg wrapped over his waist. He had one arm around her, rubbing circles into her lower back, and other laying flat on his bed sheets. "It irritates me so much," she whispered into his neck.

"I don't really get it though," Butch said quietly, staring at his dorm's ceiling.

Blossom sighed at his response, "What don't you get?"

"Why you hate religion," Butch acknowledged, even more quietly. If Blossom's ears were not so close to his mouth, she probably would not have heard him.

She raised any eyebrow, knowing he only was using a lower tone to avoid conflict. Blossom lifted herself up from his neck, positioning herself so she could straddled Butch. Holding herself up by pushing her hands down against Butch's bed, Blossom lowered her head to get a good look at her boyfriend. As she did this, her long, light orange locks cascaded down, blocking the couple's sight of anything other than each other. Butch smiled cautious as he firmly placed his hands on her hips, holding Blossom in place.

Blossom examined his face, bring her hands to cup his face as her thumbs stroked his face. She completed a familiar checklist of the details of his face as her pink eyes stared down at him.

His small but deep dimples Butch secretly hated to show but could not help displaying whenever smiling—check.

His bushy eyebrows where a small patch of hair did not grow because of an embarrassing childhood incident—check.

The faint line that was beginning to form on his forehead due to years of exaggerated expressions—check.

The plump lips he acquired from his Brazilian heritage—check.

And lastly, the tiny olive speck in his right eye that noticeably contrasted against the emerald hue it was surrounded by but was never noticed unless one completely focused on it while being in a close proximity—check.

All these aspects of Butch used to mesmerise Blossom. She once believed these discoveries were just a secret between the two. That Blossom was the only one who could ever notice them. It was something special they could only share.

It was not until last spring did she realize this was false. These aspects were not some secret as everyone was able to look and find these details about Butch too. It was the fact Blossom took the time to notice these features and ask him about them, while Butch allowed her to—even if he found all them to be flaws—was what made it special. And by doing this, it always reminded Blossom on how she should allow herself to be open with Butch since he has always has been with her.

"Why are you staring at me?" Butch questioned with amusement in his voice.

"Trying to decided whether I want to answer you or not," she replied before biting her bottom lip.

"It's not like I'm going to judge you," he rattled off. "I have my own opinions against religion too."

Blossom rolled her eyes with a grin, "The only opinions you have against it is: one, having sex before marriage; two, cursing; and three, forcing religion down other's throats. After that, you're pretty much a good Christian boy."

Butch chuckled lightly, raising an eyebrow, " _A good Christian boy_? That's the first time I've heard "good" and "boy" being associated with me."

"It's true though."

"Are you sure you truly know me, babe?" he joked while Blossom smiled lightly. "Cause right now I'm starting to feel like you don't and it's making me panic."

"Of course I do, Butch."

She un-straddled him, shifting back into the position they were in before. Blossom nuzzled her head against his neck until she was comfortable.

"If so," Butch smiled softly, "Do tell me why I'm such a "good Christian boy"?"

"Let's see, besides Bubbles, you're the only other person here that I know of who actively tries to attend church each week."

"True."

"You pray before every meal and every game you play."

"Everyone should."

Blossom rolled her eyes, which Butch was unable to see. "You quote the _Bible_ on all of your Instagram posts."

"I have a hard time come up with clever captions," he smiled sheepishly.

Blossom chuckled, continuing to list off her reasoning, "When we first started dating, you told me the only book you've ever completely read front to back was the _Bible_ —which I'm sure hasn't changed, right?"

Butch shook his head, "Not a big fan of reading."

"You have the Bible app on your phone—which I've caught you reading more times than I can count. Plus, you share the same political opinions that are commonly cited as Christian "values" except for pre-marital sex."

"I guess I am really devoted to my religion," Butch admitted sheepishly.

"Which is why I don't want to explain my views on it," Blossom muttered into his neck, reaching over Butch's body to get a hold of his hand, bringing their folded hands to his chest. "I don't want to ruin an aspect of your faith for you."

Butch raised an eyebrow as he traced circles against the back of her hand with his thumb, "But shouldn't we discuss it?"

"Why?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "What if we were to get married, are we going to have a religious ceremony—like I've always been told I'm suppose to have—or not. If we were to have kids, are we raising them as Christians or not?"

Blossom quickly raised herself from Butch's neck, sitting up besides him. She stared down at his emerald eyes as she tightened her grip on his hand. "You really want to plan out our future together?" she questioned skeptically, holding her breath after asking the question.

The only time the couple spoke about the future was when they talking about which colleges they should attend and the attempt to go long distance. Other than that, the two remained pretty muted on the other possibilities. Blossom always figured it was because Butch probably did not believe they would last past college and did not want to make things more complicated. While Butch was not fully aware of the truth of what Blossom truly did wanted regarding college, she did want to figure out their future.

Butch asking these questions gave her faith they had a chance to stay together and could actually work out. After their mess of a date night a month ago, Blossom found their relationship to be in the best condition it has ever been—excluding the homecoming dance two weeks ago, which Blossom would like to forget—and because of this, Blossom was starting to see a future with Butch, and she hoped Butch did too.

Butch nodded with a loving smile, "Of course I do, Blossom."

Blossom could not contain the smile forming on her face as she leaned in to pull Butch into a deep kiss.

"I love you," she mumbled against his lips when taking a moment to breathe as she straddled him again.

"I love you too," he replied, breaking away from her to leave a trail of kisses from the corner of her mouth to her neck.

She smiled bashfully, as he slowly made his way to her chest and played with the hem of her shirt. Blossom swiftly took it off, exposing more skin for him to work with. Butch smiled greedily at the sight, rubbing his tan hands against the softness of her porcelain skin. He quickly unhooked her bra, throwing it to the end of his bed.

Flipping Blossom on her back, Butch continued his trail to her stomach. Blossom let out a small moan at Butch's touch as her body became covered in goosebumps. Butch grinned at her reaction as he unbuttoned her shorts.

He swiftly took off his shirt, throwing it to the side as he followed his trail back to her mouth. He pulled off his basketball shorts, while the two did not dare to separate their lips from one another. Blossom clawed her nails into his back as she arched her back, allowing their skin to rub against each other.

Blossom began to play with the elastic of his underwear, slipping her hand into his boxers and wrapping her hand around his shaft.

" _God_ , I love you so much," he purred, pulling her closer and kissing her roughly.

As both took their individual underwear off, Butch reached over to his desk drawer for a condom. He handed the wrapper to Blossom—she always had a thing for putting them on, mostly to make sure they were on properly.

As Butch entered inside of her, the couple both felt like they were experiencing a new sensation. They usually preferred to have fast and rough sex but this time, they unspokenly took it slow, enjoying each other's touch and bodies more than anything. With every stroke, both were filled with warm feeling and new appreciation for one another.

It was not until afterwards when they were both breathless and cuddling, did Blossom realized they did not just have sex. They had "made love"—a term which completely grossed Blossom out and had always firmly believed never really happened. Never in Blossom's life did she ever feel such a warm, fuzzy, but quickly fleeing feeling, as Blossom only felt an emptiness inside her and she was not sure how to react. Looking over to the vacant bed across the room, Blossom felt a rush of unexplainable guilt and shame.

The range of emotions freaked the hell out of Blossom.

Which resulted in her trying to find an excuse—she told Butch she had a project due in French—to escape.

"But we didn't get to really talk," Butch pouted, not hiding the disappointment in his eyes as Blossom began to dress herself.

"I know, I'm sorry," she muttered, feeling more guilty the longer she was there. She tossed Butch his shirt after pulling her shorts up.

"Are we going to talk though?" Butch questioned as he pulled his basketball shorts on.

"I promise we will," Blossom answered calmly, even though she was entangled in a mess of emotions on the inside. She walked over to Butch as he put on his shirt again. Lifting his chin up, she kissed goodbye and said, "We'll talk Friday, okay?"

Butch smiled lightly, not entirely happy with the decision but could not find a reason to argue. "Sounds good to me."

"Lovely." Blossom kissed him again before heading towards the door. "Love you," she said quietly before exiting the room.

Blossom faintly heard him say the three words back as she closed the door. Once outside the room, Blossom paused as she stared at the door knob taking in a deep breath, releasing the sense of guilt and emptiness she had. Lifting her head up from the door, she looked down the hall. Blossom's eyes widen as her lungs filled with remorse once again at her sight.

A calm and collected Brick was strolling down the hall, making his way towards her direction. He seemed unfazed by her appearance in front of his door, unlike Blossom who wished they would not have to cross paths—the two gingers have not spoken to each other alone since homecoming.

"Hey," Brick greeted when he finally reached her.

"Hey _Brick_ ," she greeted awkwardly, her voice squeaking.

"How have you been?" he asked casually, leaning against the wall coolly, seeming generally interested in her answer.

"Oh you know," she gulped. "I've been alright. Trying to figure out Ms. Keane's assignment."

"Same," Brick nodded with a smirk. "Bubbles is supposed to help me get connected with my spiritual side later this week."

"That's sounds cool."

"Cool?" Brick raised an eyebrow, "That doesn't sound like something Blossom would say."

"Fine," Blossom sighed. "I think that sounds completely terrible."

"There we go," Brick encouraged, chuckling a little. "We have some truth."

"Yeah, so? It's not that important."

"Come on, Bloss. Honesty will _always_ be important," he responded, staring her right in the eye like a laser. "You'll realize it sooner or later."

Blossom took a step back, narrowing her eyes at him as she was not sure what he was implying. Brick just laughed at her reaction as he was finally able to unlock his door. Blossom scrunched up her nose, not really finding anything funny.

"Why are you laughing?" Blossom questioned with an irritable tone.

Brick shook his head, putting his keys back in his pocket. "Oh nothing." He paused before entering, looking at Blossom with a cocky grin. "Just a tip though. You might want to fix your hair before going outside cause you have major sex hair right now."

"Wait. What?"

Before Brick could answer, he swiftly entered his room and closed the door right behind him. Blossom thought about knocking on the door to talk to him again but quickly changed her mind. Instead she pulled out her phone to see what Brick had witnessed.

He was right. She had numerous flyaways on the crown of her head with the rest appearing completely flat. It was obvious what she and Butch were exactly up to.

The image embarrassed her, especially since Brick had to see her like this but it also filled her with shame from him knowing she and Butch just had sex. But she should not be. Butch was her boyfriend and therefore, Blossom was allowed to have sex with him whenever she wanted. So why did she care if Brick knew or not?

* * *

Entering his third class of the day, Dexter practically ran to Brick's desk when he caught the sight of the ginger's red hat. Interrupting the redhead's conversation he was having with another classmate—who gave Dexter a dirty look in the process—by tapping on the Brick's shoulder repeatedly. Brick grinned at the Dexter's attempt of gaining his attention, shaking his head at Dexter's antics.

"Yes Dexter?" he asked, raising an amused eyebrow.

Dexter crossed his arms, "First of all, where have you been lately? I think you're getting way too focus on that neanderthal sport called "football". Or is it because you won homecoming king and now think you're too good for me now?"

"Woah, woah," Brick, taken back by the questions, slowed down the short ginger. Dexter and him have hit a brake in their friendship for the last month due to Brick's commitment to football and his rise in popularity but Brick figured Dexter's academic pursuits distracted him long enough for him not to notice—it apparently did not happen. "I've just been busy, buddy. I'm sorry."

Dexter slumped in stance, obviously not impressed by Brick's answer but decided to brush it off due to his other matters. "Fine."

Brick grinned, happy Dexter accepted his apology. "Great. So what's new, Dex?"

"I need you to transform me into an elite athlete," Dexter said matter-factually.

Brick raised both of his eyebrows, "I what?"

"Need to make me into an athlete."

"But you hate sports."

"I'm aware."

"Then why do I need to do that?" Brick questioned, scratching his head. "Seems kind of redundant—unless this for scientific research."

Dexter shook his head, "Nope. It's for personal reasons. _Pressing personal reasons_."

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but you can't just turn into an elite athlete. You have to train for years to reach that level," Brick explained, looking Dexter up and down, taking in the ginger's weak frame. "And you wouldn't be able to commit to that, would you?"

"No," Dexter sighed, pinching his nose. "Is there anyway you can help me become an athlete?"

"I mean, you can join a team."

"I've tried that."

"Yeah, the cheerleading team," Brick chuckled.

"Cheerleaders have more athletic requirements than any other sport on this campus."

"Sure, Dex," Brick laughed more, making Dexter's frustration grow even more.

"If you don't want to help, Brick, please tell me," Dexter retorted, speaking more quietly and avoiding Brick's crimson eyes. "I don't want waste my time like usual."

Brick's smile faded as he became more serious, "No. I want to help, Dexter."

"You sure?" Dexter asked, flickering his eyes to Brick before staring down at the shiny floor tiles again.

"Of course I do, Dex," Brick said, smiling reassuringly, even though Dexter could not see. "I think the lacrosse team is holding tryouts tomorrow. And luckily for you, I used to play at my old school."

"So you'll coach me?"

"Yeah, meet me after school today. We'll get to work."

Dexter flashed a small smile, looking up from the floor, "Thanks Brick."

"No problem, buddy."

* * *

Stroking gently the bubblegum pink nail polish onto her toes, Blossom stuck out her tongue in concentration. She did this as her roommate exited their bathroom, fresh out of the shower and began drying her short, dark locks with a towel. Blossom broke her trace to glance at Buttercup before returning her attention to add another coat.

"So why haven't you ever told me about your religious affiliations?" Blossom asked straightforwardly, raising an eyebrow attentively but maintaining her focus. The question was one of the many stuck on Blossom's mind since the day before.

Buttercup rolled her eyes, lowering herself on her bed and throwing the—now wet—towel onto the pile of clothes in the corner of the room.

"Nothing to speak about," Buttercup answered with a subtle edge to her voice.

"There's obviously something if you detest religion so much," Blossom sang, switching over to her other foot.

"Like you have any room to talk," Buttercup jabbed.

"I have no problem with religion." Blossom glanced over to Buttercup, pushing her bangs out of her face. "I just don't want any part of it."

" _Right_."

Blossom narrowed her eyes at the dark-haired girl, "Am I sense a feeling of hostilely in your tone?"

"Uh yeah," Buttercup nodded.

Blossom rolled her eyes, continuing to paint the remaining toes. Buttercup raised an eyebrow at the action, letting out a snort.

"What? No snarky comeback?"

Blossom shook her head, "Nope."

Buttercup let a small chuckle, folding her arms behind her head and laying down. She turned to Blossom, a small smile on her lips.

"You know, I know."

Blossom stopped mid-stroke for a brief second, which she quickly hid. "What—what do you know?"

Buttercup stared at the ceiling above the two, "I know the only reason you hate religion is because of your parents."

Buttercup's eyes quickly glanced over to Blossom, taking in her reaction. The redhead continued to painting her nails but seemed lost in thought. She figured there would be some type of reaction.

It was not like the situation was bad—well, in Buttercup's opinion, it was not, but if her dad was a diplomat like Blossom's, then she can see why. After four years of getting to know Blossom and putting the pieces together, Buttercup had a pretty good idea of what Blossom had gone through.

"How did you find out?" Blossom questioned, quietly. She felt somewhat betrayed by her roommate, harboring such knowledge about herself without a warning.

"My dad is a cop," Buttercup shrugged. "It's easy for me to pick up on certain things and whatnot."

"And you never brought it up?," Blossom interjected, outraged.

"It wasn't my place to say anything," Buttercup argued, slightly irritated by Blossom's reaction. "I'm sorry."

" _Right_ ," Blossom nodded, folding her eyebrows. "Yet, you're choosing now, of all times, to bring it up? Like that makes any logical sense."

"Seriously?" Buttercup glared at her roommate, forming a fist. "It's honestly not even that big of a deal–"

"Not that big of a deal?" Blossom interrupted.

"Yeah. Not that big–"

"So your parents abandoning and neglecting you isn't that big of the deal?" Blossom questioned, staring intensely into Buttercup's eyes. "Just because of a difference in opinion?"

"Blossom, I—"

"It's not a big of deal that my dad gives me all the money I could ever want just so he doesn't have to deal with me? That even though my parents act like everything's okay, every single time I look into my mom's eyes, I only see the disappointment she carries for me despite how much good I've done–"

"Blossom–"

"–And it's not like I tried to be their perfect daughter until I literally couldn't breathe anymore because they suffocated me so much. Everything was about setting any example for my dad. "Always behave like God would want you to"," Blossom quoted, mimicking her mother's exact tone that has haunted her for her whole life. "Well then, why would God allow my parents to be emotional abusive? Why was I punished with that burden?"

Growing up as a diplomats daughter was not such an easy life. Constantly having eyes watching her every move, a new nanny introduced each year, and the constant judgement of her parents; Blossom never got a chance to ever have a sense of familiarity, comfort, or family. On top of it, her parents were heavily involved in the Catholic religion.

Whenever Blossom did something that was not good enough for their high standards they pushed on her, they would forced her to take more _Bible_ classes at their church to expel any sins she acquired instead of parenting her. Blossom swears she had spent more time at church than ever seeing her parents in all of the 17 years of her life.

After a huge disagreement with her parents when she turned 14, Blossom expressed how much she resented everything her parents have taught. Blossom went on and on about how she never wanted to step foot in another church after they have conditioned her to hate it. They were outraged with her statements, threatening to disown her. The next day, a fresh pile of brochures of the top boarding schools in nation were placed in front of her door—of course, all had Catholic affiliations.

However, with further investigation over the internet, Blossom discovered the brochure for Townsville Academy was outdated. She also researched their academics and dancing programs, finding herself extremely impressed. A few months later, she was enrolled in Townsville's latest freshmen class.

It was because of her parents treatment and their constant push for Blossom to be the perfect daughter, was why she was conditioned to behave in such a way in front of everyone. It left her uncertain on doing what truly makes her happy due to the fear of being a disappointment to others.

Her parents did not send her to a boarding school out of anger, but because of the displeasure they had of having her being in their presences. The need to be seen as superior by their peers and loyalty to their religion, was what left Blossom parentless. It was them where she acquired her competitiveness and perfectionist attitude. It was what made her want to be always be right because she was never right when in the presence of her parents. Everything her parents practiced and preached for her to be, Blossom still was―except for the religious part. And the worst part was, Blossom still wanted them to be apart of her life. She still wanted to impress and make them proud enough to call her their daughter. Although, Blossom was pretty sure they never would.

"Blossom!" Buttercup shouted, silencing her roommate who just stared down at her freshly painted toes. If she knew this would be Blossom's reaction, Buttercup would have never brought it up. Actually, she should have never brought it up in the first place. Buttercup could tell how the strained relationship the redhead had with her parents had deeply affected Blossom, given how she spoke about them before in passing conversation. It was clearly inappropriate of her to speak about it—especially with Buttercup's intentions to use it as leverage at the start of the conversation. Now she knew to never bring it up again.

"Yes?" Blossom whispered, letting her bangs to fall.

Buttercup sighed, turning on her side to face the wall, her back towards Blossom and returning to the beginning of their conversation, "I—I used to be Buddhist," she revealed in attempt to make things even.

Blossom smiled softly at Buttercup's revaluation. The redhead appreciated Buttercup's subtle way to ease off of the previous subject, even though she was still pissed about it—Blossom will figure out how to deal with it later.

"How fitting," Blossom teased.

* * *

"Alright, Dex. Let's, um, let's try a few more suicides," Brick directed, rubbing the back of his neck. He was unsure on how to coach Dexter after yesterday's practice. The short redhead threw up twice and nearly fainted, and yet, he insisted of still trying out despite Brick's protests.

Dexter nodded reluctantly, jogging slowly to the other side of the field.

Brick watched, feeling a strong sense of disapproval for Dexter's determination. Something has the short redhead extremely motivated, and Brick was not sure if it was worth putting Dexter's health in jeopardy. Brick needed to find out what it was before–

"Hey, you're Brick Adams, right?"

Brick turned to met a slim man with bright blue eyes. A gray fedora laid on his head, matching the same colored peacoat he wore. Brick nodded, resulting in the man to present his hand to Brick. Shaking his hand, the man introduced himself.

"I'm Coach Bossman." Brick nodded at name, not having an recollection of it. "I'm the new boy's lacrosse coach, and may I say, it's certainly a pleasure to meet you, son. I've been watching your Friday night antics all season long."

Brick beamed at compliment, "Thank you, sir. It's means a lot."

The coach chuckled, "Please, I'm sure you hear that all the time-"

"I mean–"

"So son, I'm not actually here to just introduce myself. I'm actually interested in you." Brick raised an eyebrow, slightly crept out by the man's statement. "Him showed me the tapes from your previous school when you played lacrosse and—Son, you're one hell of talent."

"Oh um–"

"I want you to join the team," the coach announced, waiting intensely for any answer.

Brick gulped, rubbing the back of his neck, "I–I can't," he answered. "Football season still going and I–"

"How many games you got?"

"About 2 since our division doesn't qualify for state's for another two years," Brick grumbled, still dissatisfied by the fact he discovered a week ago.

"Then I'll leave a spot on the roster available for you."

"But that's not fair for the others trying out," Brick argued.

"Oh, about that," the coach chuckled. "I already have my team made up. I'm just required to hold tryouts one day to make it seem fair."

"Then I can't take the spot."

"Why not, son? It would help this school a hell of a lot if you did."

"I–I…" Brick's eyes darted to Dexter, who struggled to touch the ground to begin a new suicide. He sighed, revealing the truth, "My friend is kind of trying out today and he desperately wants to join a team, and I–"

"Who? Him?" The coach pointed over to Dexter, not holding back the laughter coming from his mouth. Brick nodded, narrowing his eyes at the coach. "Yeah, that's not happening. He's going to get himself killed—heck, he's almost there."

"I don't–"

"Look son. I'm not taking your friend and I'm leaving the spot open for you. Either you take it in two weeks or not," the coach interjected, turning away from the redhead and heading towards a nearby building. "But thanks for the good laugh."

"I wasn't joking–"

"Brick… I'm… am… I… I done?" Dexter asked, hyperventilating, trying to regain control of his breathing but found no lucky.

Brick stared at the short redhead, his eyes full of pity. He knew the whole situation was a bad idea from the beginning but now Dexter put him in a tight position that will make him seem like the bad guy.

Brick was not in the mood to be the bad guy, at this moment.

"I think we're done here in general."

"Wait. What?" Dexter breathed, taking a step back and placing his hands on his knees as he felt the urge to vomit coming soon.

"I just spoke to the coach, there's no spaces on the team," Brick explained in a short tone. "Let's go."

"But–"

"Dexter, give it up. There's no point in arguing. The coach doesn't care about you trying out."

Brick turned on his heel, heading for the building Coach Bossman just left to. He figured Dexter would follow, but was surprised to see the redhead did not as Brick glanced back to see Dexter standing in the same spot. Brick rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath and returned to where Dexter stood—The boy genius' stubbornness was getting on his nerves as of lately.

"I cared about trying out," Dexter confessed when Brick stood next to him, staring down at the cleats he just bought two days ago.

Brick pinched the bridge of his nose, wanting an escape from the conversation, "Why Dexter? You don't need to be athletic. Just stick to the academics."

"I just… I just needed this. I needed to prove myself to–"

"To who? Is this about Butch? 'Cause Butch doesn't give two shits about what you do," Brick questioned, acknowledging the twos outrageous rivalry.

Dexter shook his head defensively, but stopped quickly as the motion made his head pound more, "I would never want to do anything for the king of neanderthals."

"Then who, Dex?" Brick questioned, glancing at his watch. Instead of listening to Dexter, who was beginning to formulate an answer, Brick cut him off in order to give advice to end this conversation sooner. "You know what, who cares? You don't need to prove yourself to anyone, Dexter. If you matter to them, then they would make it apparent. Same if they like you for you." Brick placed his hand on Dexter's shoulder, gaining the short ginger's full attention, "Just don't ever change who you are just to impress someone else."

"Well…" Dexter cleared his throat, finally getting control of his breathing pattern. "That was somewhat inspiring."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Dexter rolled his eyes but could not hide the grin he had, "As you wish." His grin disappeared quickly, as he stared down at his cleats again. "Thanks though, Brick. At least someone believes in me."

"No problem, Dex–"

"And it was stupid for me to do this for a girl–"

Brick's eyebrows rose up at the mention of a girl, "A girl? You did this for a girl?" Brick teased, grinning wildly. "Who knew that you were capable of feelings, Dex?"

"Ha ha, so funny," Dexter deadpanned before sighing. "And yes. I have failed myself, acting like some hormonal teenager by trying to achieve a noble and heroic appeal to win over her heart."

Brick concealed his laughter, knowing once Dexter was out of sight, he will be laughing his ass off, "Why don't you just tell her?"

Dexter snorted, "And feel the wrath of her boyfriend? No thank you."

Brick's eyes narrowed, "Who exactly is this girl, Dexter?"

"...Blossom."

"...Oh."

That was all Brick could said. The situation no longer made he want to laugh as his mind began to reflect to all the red flags that alerted him on Dexter's crush. No wonder Butch hated the boy genius so much.

"Yeah…"

Brick glanced down at his watch again, noting the mess hall had began serving dinner. This was his chance to kill the conversation.

"Well, um," Brick coughed. "Just remember the advice I gave you and to, um, follow your heart?" Brick nodded, "Yeah. Just follow your heart. And I would love to continue this discuss but I have to meet some of the guys for dinner right now and–"

"I get it, Brick," Dexter faked. "You can go."

Brick nodded, "Alright, bud. See you around."

Dexter watched as his friend left him alone, feeling a sting of disappointment as Brick chose his other friends over him once again.

* * *

"So, Buttercup used to be Buddhist?" Bubbles questioned, twirling one of her curls around a finger.

"I just said it three times already, Bubbles," Blossom said, slightly annoyed while closing her locker.

Bubbles nodded, "I know. I just can't believe it."

Blossom raised an eyebrow, "Why? It's a pretty common religion in Japan."

Bubbles shook her head, "Not because of that. It's because," Bubbles paused, wanting to chose the right words to make sure she did not sound too harsh. "It's just, Buttercup isn't _exactly_ what Buddhism is supposed to represent."

"That's probably why she _used_ practice it."

"Yeah but don't you think it would be good if Buttercup reconnected with her religion."

Blossom smirked. Bubbles was falling right into her trap.

Blossom was not going to let Buttercup's slip up the night before go unnoticed. She purposefully told Bubbles about Buttercup's former religion, fully aware Boomer also practiced the spiritual path as well and Bubbles eagerness to get anyone to reawaken their faith.

Blossom nodded, "I _definitely_ do."

Bubbles clapped happily, "Yay! I'll go talk to Boomy right now."

* * *

Brick did not know how to feel.

He actually did not know how to feel for the past two hours he spent attending mass at Bubbles' church. As Brick sat alone on the hard wooden bench while Bubbles chatted with a few of the other churchgoers, he tried to reflect upon anything that touched him spiritually but nothing did.

Brick could not help but feel a sense of disappointment from this discovery. Given recent conflicts and decisions, Brick thought something would have stood out to him. He had always heard about people going to church to help figure out their right path or discovering what they need in life. He felt like an epiphany should have occurred for him.

However, there were none.

Brick stared up at stain-glass windows, which poured down a array of rainbow-colored light as the sun was settling down for the night, as he searched for answers. His confusion and lack of understanding of how faith works, made him discredit religion even more.

He was starting to think religions were just one big way to successfully start cults.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Bubbles marveled, sighing loving and interrupting Brick's thoughts.

Brick blinked at her, not understanding what she meant until he realized she was staring at the colorful windows.

"Yeah, it is," he nodded.

Bubbles sat next to him, still looking up at the glass, "When I came to Townsville, I had a hard time finding a new church to attend. I was starting to get homesick because of it and I even thought about dropping out to move back home–"

"Really?" Brick questioned, eyebrows raised.

Bubbles nodded, a smile on her face, "Yup, but then two days before holiday break during our freshmen year, Butch offered to take us to this very church–"

"I thought Butch wasn't Catholic."

"He's not. He didn't know it was Catholic at the time, just that they were holding this big religious concert for the holidays and they were advertising all around campus about it." Bubbles chuckled quietly to herself, "Obviously, no one else but me wanted to go—and the minute I saw the stained glasses, I fell in love, and when I came in and met everyone, I felt like I was home. After that, I knew I couldn't leave, and it's been the best decision I've ever made."

Brick nodded, feeling slightly bitter by her story. She acquired the epiphany he sought for.

"That's crazy, Bubs."

"Not really," Bubbles shrugged. "It's just how faith works, you know?"

Brick shook his head, "No. No, I don't."

Bubbles raised an eyebrow, glancing at the redhead, "Still don't believe?"

"What is there to believe?" Brick snapped, furrowing his eyebrows. Bubbles withdrew herself from him, blinking in shock at his reaction. Once noticing this, Brick sighed in defeat. "... Sorry."

"It's, it's fine, Brick," Bubbles responded, feeling uneased by their interaction. She had never seen Brick ever act this way—he has always been level-headed, seeming like the voice of reason within their group. Bubbles sort of thought he was incapable of feelings, and had an inside joke with Boomer about Brick being too perfect to be human; that he was a cyborg or something controlled by Him to infiltrate the student body.

"I just… I don't see the point."

"In what?"

" _Any of this_ ," Brick gestured around the building. "None of this makes any logical sense."

"Well, it's not suppose to," Bubbles giggled.

"Then what it's supposed to do?" Brick challenged, narrowing his eyes at the blonde, angered that she was laughing at his statement.

"I… It's, um," Bubbles fumbled. She never realized how intimidating Brick was.

Brick rolled his eyes, "Exactly." He leaned back into the bench, folding his arms across his chest, "There is no purpose here."

"Yes, there is."

"Do explain," Brick responded. "'Cause I have yet to experience it."

"It's not something you experience, Brick."

"Then what is it?"

"It's… it's something that gives you hope," Bubbles explained. "Being apart of a religion allows you to feel hope, and with that hope, it guides you on a path–"

"So it does lead you to a path?"

Bubbles shook her head, "It doesn't lead you to a path. It gives you all the strength and courage to get up and find one–Brick, religion doesn't solve your problems or makes them disappear, but it does help cope with them. It can also help you discover your purpose in life but it's not because of the religion itself, it's all on you. It's about if you're willing to put faith and hope into your life in order to guide yourself onto the right path in your life."

Brick nodded, folding his eyebrows when making eye contact with the blonde, "That was, um. That was oddly beautiful, Bubs."

"Thanks Brick," Bubbles grinned brightly.

"Hey, um, sorry for snapping earlier and being angry–"

"It's fine–"

"No, it's not," Brick interjected. "I've just… I've just been confused a lot lately with some decisions I have made– _and will make_. I, I shouldn't have taken out on you." Brick gestured around the church, "or Jesus."

Bubbles giggled a little, but felt a wave of concern for her redheaded friend, "Do you..." She hesitated as her and Brick have never had a deep conversation like this before. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Brick shook his head, "Thanks but…" He looked up to the stained glasses again, which looked less intense as the sun had finally settled. "I think it's best if I deal with this myself."

Bubbles nodded understandingly, but felt disappointed by Brick's decision. "Alright. But if you ever need to talk, I'm here."

Brick met Bubbles' bright blue eyes and smirked, "Thanks, Bubs—and thanks for bring me here and sharing this with me. I think… I think I finally have some understanding to all of this. So thank you for that."

"Anytime."

* * *

"Bubbles, what this big emergency that I had to skip dinner to come–" Buttercup started, barging into Boomer and Dexter's dorm after receiving a text message from Bubbles, but lost her trail of thought when the door revealed to be only Boomer behind it. Boomer, who sat on one of the two mats on the floor, opened his eyes from meditation and waved at the dark-haired girl.

"What's up, Buttercup?"

Buttercup raised an eyebrow, taking in the scent of a nearby incense; it had the strong smell of sage with hints of citrus.

"Where's Bubbles?"

"At church."

"If she's at church, then why did she ask me to be here?" Buttercup questioned with a hint of irritation.

"So we can talk," Boomer stated calmly, patting the mat next to him. "Sit."

Buttercup folded her eyebrows, taking a seat next to him with unease, "Why do we need to talk?"

"Buttercup, did you know that I'm Buddhist?"

Buttercup snapped right up, heading for the door, "This is a set up, isn't it?"

"Buttercup, please don't leave," Boomer said calmly as Buttercup reached for the door. Buttercup sighed, turning around and folding her arms across her chest, raising an eyebrow to signal for an answer. "This is a set up–"

"Oh my fucking God. I can't stand your girlfriend–"

"She just cares about you, Butters," Boomer interjected.

"Yeah. Forcing me to do something I don't like, really shows that."

"I get how this may look, but honestly, Bubbles is just doing it to get a better understanding of you."

"What?"

Boomer narrowed his eyes at her, "Do you realize how close you and Blossom are?"

Buttercup raised an eyebrow in confusion, "Yeah… Why? Why does this have to do with anything?"

Boomer continued to stare at the dark-haired girl for a minute before shaking his head and displaying the same goofy grin from before, patting the mat next to him again.

"Sit."

Buttercup rolled her eyes, but obeyed the blond.

"What now?"

"What happened?"

"You're going to need to be more specific, Boom."

"Buttercup, _what happened_?"

Buttercup sighed, lowering her head. "Nothing really happened. I just felt like I would never fit the ideals of being a Buddhist. I can't pretend to be something I'm not."

Boomer nodded, taking a deep breath. "You know about my parents, right?"

Buttercup shook her head, "All I know is that your dad was a semi-pro surfer and that they're not together."

"Right." Boomer nodded. "They're not together. They never got married, and that's okay, but they broke up when I was 7. I wasn't aware of why until a few years later but during the time that I didn't, I would blame myself. I don't know how or why, but I did. Anyways, since I felt guilty, I would have this anger inside of me all the time and it would cause me to ruin anything in my life."

"This doesn't not sound like the Boomer we all know and love," Buttercup teased.

"I know," Boomer grinned. "After while, my mom couldn't deal with all the trouble I was causing, so she sent me to live with my pops for the summer. That's when he saw how much anger I had and taught me how to surf, but also showed me Buddhism." Boomer met Buttercup's eyes, "At first, I thought my anger was not appropriate for the religion but my pops soon taught me it doesn't matter. As long as I was trying to work towards being the best human being I needed to be, then I should be able to practice it if I wanted to."

"That's a nice story, Boomer. And I'm glad that it worked out in helping you to control your anger, but I'm just not meant to be a Buddhist. I'm too violent and loud. I'm too rough… I'm just don't mesh with it."

"I'm… I'm still that angry kid, Butters. I've just been able to control it better," Boomer confessed. "I learned to let things go, to forgive and forget."

"I never like that philosophy," Buttercup mumbled.

"There's no weakness in it."

"In what?"

"Forgiveness. Nor being soft."

Buttercup rolled her eyes, " _Right_."

Boomer sighed in defeat, "You'll realize it, sooner or later." Buttercup raised an eyebrow pointedly, " _Hopefully._ "

Buttercup chuckled to herself, "Yeah, sure."

Boomer looked around the room, feeling like a failure. Bubbles will not be pleased he did not achieve the results she wanted, but that is something he cannot help. Instead, he decided to make most of the time before his girlfriend finds out.

"Want to play _Xbox_?"

"Hell yeah," Buttercup nodded eagerly.

* * *

Taking in the light floral scent of the hallways, Brick walked slowly, still unsure of his decision. Even though his mind was at war, Brick's body still move forward, leading him without command. Almost like an out of body experience, Brick did not realize how he made it to his destination nor did he know what to do.

Brick stared at the mahogany door, trying to put his thoughts at ease as he hesitantly knocked on the door. There was no turning back now.

He heard the door unlock as cool smile formed on his face. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt, Brick's eyes stared invitingly at the pink ones the door slowly revealed.

"Hey, Bloss."

Blossom raised an eyebrow, looking back and forward down the hallway to make sure no one was there, remaining behind the door like it was a shield.

"Why are you here?" she asked quickly, hoping her brash behavior would scary him away.

"Honestly, I don't know," Brick admitted. He leaned against the doorframe, chuckling lightly to himself. Removing his hands from his pockets to take off his red hat and ruffle his hair, Brick explained himself, "I've just been confused lately and somehow…" He rubbed the back of his neck, "I ended up here."

Blossom chewed on her bottom lip, slumping her shoulders, unsure on how to handle the situation. She was not sure if she wanted to let Brick back in, due the circumstances he had put them in. However, Blossom also did not know why she felt nervous whenever she saw him nor knew how to act around Brick anymore.

"I don't really know how I'm supposed to help you with that," she mumbled, letting loose orange strands of hair dangle in her face, masking the unsureness she felt.

Brick nodded, flickering his eyes down the empty hall. He understood her reaction and that she probably did not want to speak with him but Brick could not help himself. Putting his hat back on and cocking his neck, Brick pursued his lips in thought.

A few seconds passed before either one spoke, with Brick breaking the silence, asking a simply question.

"Can we take a walk?"

Blossom froze, flashing panic in her eyes that Brick easily took notice of.

"I don't think-"

"No one knows about it, Blossom," Brick mumbled dishearteningly, cutting her off. "They wouldn't care if they saw us."

Blossom shook her head to disagree with his reasoning, even though it was a concern of her's.

"But what about you?"

"What do you mean?" He questioned quietly, challenging her to acknowledge the truth. Brick was never going to make a deal about what he revealed at homecoming unless Blossom addressed it.

Blossom felt her stomach turned as she tried to formulate an appropriate response, but cannot find one. Instead, she shook her head, forcing a smile.

"Nothing," Blossom responded, moving away from the door. "Let me grab a coat."

Brick nodded, pushing himself off the doorframe as Blossom returned with a cashmere peacoat. He smiled softly, following her trail out of the building. When outside, the two gingers maintained a slow and uneven small talk. Commenting on the unusual cool weather for California standards and the unit in Professor Utonium's class.

During the walk, a few classmates would walk by, exchanging hellos with the duo. Each familiar face made Blossom grow anxious, wanting to avoid them and their friendly behavior. She felt as if they were being exposed to some secret and were going to spread it like rampage across the campus.

The question was, what were they going to say, exactly? And why did she care so much?

Luckily half way through, Brick took notice to Blossom's uneasiness and lead them to a secluded bench near the math hallway—no one generally walked this way after hours except a handful of teachers.

Blossom took a deep breath, taking a seat on the bench as far away from Brick as she could. There was enough distance between the two for another person—or two Buttercup's—to sit there. Brick pretended to cough, attempting to break the awkward silence. Blossom, purposely ignoring it, focused her attention on pulling the stray pieces of fabric on her coat.

Brick sighed in defeat, realizing things will never be the same between the two.

Did he regret revealing his feelings to her?

No.

He does regret possibly ruining their friendship, but that does not mean it was entirely gone. There had to be something still there if she was somewhat willingly to take a walk with him—or even open the door for as long as she did.

"So I heard from a couple of colleges," he spoke quietly. "Three of them want to give me full rides."

Blossom quickly turned to him, eyes completely wide, and huge smile on her face, "Are you serious?" Brick nodded, smiling contagiously, happy to see she still cared about him. "That's incredible, Brick!"

He nodded again, unable to cease his smile, "I know, I know."

"So what schools?" She asked eagerly, inching a little closer to him and showing genuine interest in what he had to say.

" _Ohio State, Arizona_ , and _Stanford_."

"Wow. That's crazy."

"Yeah, it is," he turned, staring her right in the eye. "But I don't know which one I should commit to."

Blossom shrugged, "You don't have to decide now."

"Actually, I do. They want a verbal commitment in two weeks."

"Well, what does your mom think?" She questioned, knowing his mother would heavily influence whatever decision he would make—Blossom also wondered if anyone else knew this fact about him.

"Yeah about that," Brick smiled sheepishly. "I haven't told her that I'm even playing again."

Blossom raised her eyebrow, "Why not? I thought you told her everything?"

He shrugged, "I know she wouldn't approve. I didn't want to deal with the disappointment."

Blossom nodded, "I get it," she said quietly.

"I haven't exactly told anyone about the offers, Bloss."

"Then why are you telling me?"

"Because I trust you," he said simply, looking into her light pink eyes and meaning every word.

"You trust me?" Blossom questioned like it was hard to believe, but somehow she could not stop smiling uncontrollably. Brick nodded slowly. Blossom chewed on the inside of her cheek to stop smiling. She did not even know why she was happy about what he said. Instead, Blossom focused back on their conversation. "You trust me, right?"

"We literally just established that I do."

Blossom rolled her eyes, grinning and brushing off his comment, "Then I think you should go to Stanford."

Brick raised an eyebrow, "Can I ask why?"

"It's easy. _Arizona_ is a party school, which I'm sure you don't want to ruin everything because of some frat party, now do you?" Brick shook his head, chuckling lightly. Blossom continued, "And _Ohio State_ has an above average football program, but so does _Stanford_. _Stanford_ also has the better academic program out of the three—and God forbid—if the _NFL_ doesn't work out, you will get better opportunities for plan B if you attend _Stanford_."

Brick nodded. Blossom's logic made complete sense and was the practical choice in the situation, but Brick was not sure if it was necessarily what he wanted. Did he really want to continue living in California for the next four years? Did he really want to be away from his mom for that long?

His thoughts consumed him, building up like trapped smoke. Brick could not think straight, imagining conflicting scenarios in his head, each filled with more anxious and confusing feelings.

Brick believed attending church with Bubbles would have helped guide him onto a new path. He imagined of having a spiritual awaken and all his problems would have suddenly disappeared. Instead, the visit left him with more questions about himself and his future.

Brick was lost.

He came to this realization a week after homecoming, once he received his first scholarship—a lackluster deal from _Alabama_. And while his brain thought of calling his mom first, his heart wanted to run across campus and tell Blossom. But he could not do so.

Brick had what he wanted his whole life; the first big step towards playing in the _NFL_ but he was not satisfied.

In every single one of those scenarios of his future, there was only one constant, and that was Blossom. That is reason why he was not sure, and it was what kept him up most nights for the past two weeks.

Brick found it laughable for believing Blossom and him could have a future. That he let his feelings develop this far. And that was when another thought would creep its way into his mind.

Why did he let things get this far?

Blossom was just some pretty girl and he was just some jock. It was the same story, even though there was not anything to write about—except maybe a short paragraph. Yet, Brick let it devour him, spreading like a wildfire with no end in sight, and if he could—he should—put it out, he would do it in a heartbeat.

As he tried to play it cool when interacting with Blossom, faking a calming smile, Brick was secretly miserable. The unfamiliar sense of heartache made him question if this was what having your heart being broken felt like, but he knew it was not possible.

He did not love her; therefore, he had no heartbreak.

Brick came to the agreement he was just simply infatuated with Blossom at the beginning of the week. She was the most intelligent, beautiful, and graceful women he had ever met, and it should have been expected. With that, Brick decided he needed to move on.

He needed to let Blossom ago, even if she did not know the full length of his feelings. Brick needed to get her out of his system.

That was what he did for a week. For those seven days, Brick felt himself reverting back into his former self.

This quickly dissolved when Dexter brought up his crush on the orange-haired girl. It was hypocritical of him to give the boy genius advice now that he looked back on it.

Maybe he was trying to sabotage himself, but everything Brick said to the short ginger, was actually what he tried to silence in his mind. The small part of his mind that still wanted things to happen with Blossom. The small part imprisoned him with childish thoughts and unrealistic hopes. All of this confirmed one thing to Brick.

He was even more lost than he thought.

Perhaps that was why he ended up at Blossom's dorm. She was the only thing Brick could not escape from—and maybe he did not want to after all.

Old habits do die hard, right?

Or at least, that was what Brick told himself to find a reasonable answer to why he led himself to her. Brick tried to ignore his inner desires and analytic thoughts as he continued his conversation with Blossom. Trekking down a long path he may never know how it ends—or even if it did.

"I'll figure out my options later," Brick replied.

"Not impressed with what I have to say?" Blossom teased, but Brick took it seriously.

"I'm always impressed with what you have to say, Bloss."

Blossom blinked at his response, slumping back into the bench, almost seeming like a snail hiding in their shell. "Well then…"

A few leaves brushed past their feet in a sweep of chilling fall air. Blossom rubbed her arms, trying to gain a feeling of warmth to her already naturally cold body. Brick moved a little closer, hoping the heat from his body would radiate towards her.

"How have you been?" Brick asked, softening his eyes on her. He knew the answer would most likely hurt but it was the best for him to hear. It could help him move on. "Anything new?"

Blossom shook her head, "I've been good."

"How's things with Butch?"

"Things have been great, actually," Blossom confessed, not hiding her smile. She almost forgot who asked her the question when thinking about her boyfriend. _Almost_. After realizing it, the smile dropped quickly, and her stomach twisted with guilt and her chest was heavy.

"Yeah. I've noticed Butch has been pretty perky lately."

"Perky? Nice word choice," she laughed halfheartedly.

Brick shrugged his shoulders, "It's true. I don't think I've seen him more happier than now."

That was the truth, and as disgusting as it may sound, it made Brick absolutely sick knowing exactly why Butch was uncharacteristic gleeful.

"What can I say. When things are good with Butch, they are _really_ good."

"I'm glad," Brick mumbled.

"Are you really?" Blossom asked, narrowing her eyes slightly. Brick stared into her pink eyes, begging to her, pleading to not have to answer the question. Blossom lighten her expression, staring at her hands—which were turning bright pink from the coldness.

Brick took a deep breath and answered her question, "I'm glad you are happy, Bloss. You deserve to be."

Blossom raised an eyebrow, wondering to herself if she truly did deserve to be happy. How she has been feeling lately, it should be the exact opposite.

Another breeze of cool air hit the two, making Blossom subconsciously inch closer to Brick. The two's thighs were now touching, but neither were aware as both were consumed by their troubled minds.

"I'm not sure…" Blossom whispered to herself, not aware of Brick hearing what she had said.

"Not sure of what?"

She shook her head, "Nothing. It's nothing."

"Bloss…"

"Do you think it's stupid for me to plan my future with Butch?" Blossom blurted out, this time not forgetting who she was talking to, but not caring.

"First of all, why are you questioning this?" Brick asked calmly as his heart skipped a beat.

Blossom sighed, "I don't know. We have such polar opposite attitudes and values. And I don't want to have anything to do with Christianity or any religion but he will always be apart of it. So if we get married, we'll have to do it at a church. And what if we have kids? I don't want them falling victim to his religious beliefs," Blossom ranted. Brick raised an eyebrow, confused by Blossom getting so worked up by it. "It doesn't make sense in my mind to do it but yet I want to do it. I can't figure out what will make me happy," she mumbled, avoiding his staring eyes.

The two sat in silence as Brick tried to formulate the best response to her but he could not find anything to say except for one question.

"Does Butch make you happy?"

Blossom, taken back by his question, raised an eyebrow, flickering her eyes to his' to make eye contact, "Butch? Yeah. He makes me happy," she said quietly.

"Then plan a future," Brick simply responded. "Let yourself be happy, Bloss."

His answer made Blossom's mind be overfilled with the two simple yet complex questions that has flooded her mind for weeks.

Will it make her happy? And did she truly deserve it?

Brick believed she did, and it puzzled her.

Why would he?

Why did he care so much about her?

Why did she like that he did?

Why did he always have to look at her like she was the most precious thing on Earth?

And why does she want to kiss him so badly?

Maybe it was because she was confused from her prolonged thoughts—or maybe it was because she liked to sabotage herself and her happiness, but Blossom found herself leaning forward, leaving just a few inches between their lips.

Brick was aware of her motions, his mind overflowing of millions of thoughts. He wondered why, now, she was doing this and if she really wanted to do this. Another part of him was celebrating and daring him to just kiss her already. And as he stared into her big, pink eyes, taking in the light pink hue that surrounded the iris and grew gradually darker before she closed her eyes, Brick thought of Bubbles' words.

He was guided to Blossom and now it was his time for him to make his decision.

It was all on him.

He inched closer, almost closing the gap between them.

His eyes widen as he turned his head away and pushing Blossom slightly away, seeing a trio of students in the distance, probably heading for dinner, alarming them of not being alone. Blossom eyes snapped opened, raising an eyebrow at his response, her face become inflamed. She then saw the group of classmates, understanding why he acted in such a way.

"We should probably go eat," Brick coughed, getting up from the bench. He extended his hand to Blossom, helping her up.

"I'll just head back up to my dorm," Blossom mumbled, feeling embarrassed by the situation but realized it was probably for the best.

"Have you eaten today?" Brick asked.

"I mean, I had a tofu burger."

"Then you're eating dinner," Brick cringed. "Come on, Bloss."

Blossom rolled her eyes, but agreed, "Fine but I'm not eating dessert."

"But that's the best part," Brick exasperated, taking steps towards the cafeteria with Blossom.

"Well I'm not trying to get diabetes or anything, so no thanks."

"A little sugar doesn't hurt, Bloss."

"That's more of Bubbles' thing, honestly."

"Alright, then I get to eat your's."

"Suit yourself," Blossom grinned as Brick smirked.

He knew they were pretending to forget what had occurred on the bench like usual, and Brick hoped they continue to do so. It was too dangerous for himself. Brick did not not want to complicate things anymore for Blossom and himself. But as he watched Blossom laugh at something he had said, and seeing how beautiful her smile was to him; Brick knew he kept lying to himself in order to move on. Brick was not going to move on. He wanted her no matter the consequences. Brick knew, deep down, he will do whatever it takes to have Blossom.

* * *

Buttercup laughed to herself as she watched Bubbles struggle to reach for a bag of chips out of a vending machine. The petite blonde had her arm in the machine, trying to grab the bag that got stuck. The sight amused Buttercup dearly to the point she did not want to help her friend, just to see her struggle more.

However, Buttercup could not do that to Bubbles—despite how hilarious it was.

The dark-haired girl strolled up to the machine, deliver a swift kick to the side. The action knocked the chips loose, falling to the bottom where Bubbles could grab it successfully.

"Thanks," Bubbles grinned, taking the bag and pushing some loose strands of hair out of her face. She opened the bag, offering some to Buttercup.

Buttercup shook her head, taking note of the flavor, "Not a fan of dried kale chips."

Bubbles popped one into her mouth, chewing stubbornly. "Come on Buttercup. They're healthy and taste like chard–"

"What the fuck is chard?"

"It's–"

"Actually," Buttercup interrupted. "I don't want to know."

"Fine," Bubbles popped another in her mouth. "So what's up?"

Buttercup raised an eyebrow, smirking, "Other than you trying to trick me yesterday with your boyfriend, nothing much."

"Oh right." Bubbles chewed into her chip more slowly, "About that, I–"

"It's fine," Buttercup smirked. "You were just being your meddling, annoying self."

"Well, I wouldn't say annoying."

Buttercup laughed, nodding her head, " _Sure_ , Bubs. Anyways, just for future reference," Buttercup's face went flat, staring darkly into Bubbles' blue eyes, "Don't ever mess with my personal life ever again. I've had enough of it, alright?"

Bubbles blinked at the dark-haired girl, shocked by the sudden hostility.

"But, but, but it wasn't just me–"

"I don't really care," she replied coldly. Buttercup raised an eyebrow sharply, "Do I make my self clear?"

Bubbles nodded slowly, trembling in fear and holding back any tears. At the moment, she wished she was not such a crybaby about confrontation.

Buttercup smiled brightly, " _Perfect_. Now let's go get some real food."

Bubbles obeyed, following a step behind the dark-haired girl and questioning the very reason of their friendship.

* * *

Blossom smoothed her recently straighten hair, attempting to look more presentable before entering Butch's dorm. After a long week of conflict and debating, it was finally Friday evening.

It was time for Blossom and Butch discuss their future.

She felt a pit in her stomach—which has been present since two nights ago when she spoke to...

Blossom shook her head, pushing back the memories. She tried taking deep breaths to calm herself down.

It was now or never, she told herself as she reached for Butch's door. But the door opened before she could do it herself as Brick slipped out of the room quickly. His eyes flashed with surprise when he spotted her in hallway.

"What's up?" he nodded.

"Hey," she squeaked.

The two remained still. Blossom took note of him appearing to be debating on whether or not to initiate a conversation.

Brick smiled brightly at her, and simply said, "Good luck, Bloss," as he brushed past her, heading out of the building.

Blossom felt a jolt of coldness surge through her body. Her chest began to feel heavy and the pit in her stomach grew even larger. But like always, she pushed it aside, putting on a front that her emotions were not in wack because of some… _indescribable_ reason.

Opening the door to the dorm room, Blossom put on a smile and prepared herself for the hard conversation with Butch, hoping only for the best of results.


	8. Her Majesty Has Returned

As Buttercup and Blossom walked towards the courtyard before the first class of the day, both noticed a large crowd around the school's marble fountain. It seemed like the whole student body was flocking over to whatever it was, with some even running and leaping over tables to get across the courtyard to the scene. Blossom and Buttercup raised an eyebrow at each other, silently agreeing to steer clear of the area.

Whatever it was, they felt it was not worth their time.

The two roommates were able to find Butch and Brick at their table easily, thanks to the clearing of the courtyard. Both had one thing to say to the two.

What the hell was going on?

"I don't know," Brick answered curiously. "We just got here two minutes ago."

"Yeah. And because of all the commotion, someone fucking stepped on my new _Nikes_ ," Butch pouted, gesturing to the smudge on his crisp, white sneakers. Buttercup and Brick rolled their eyes at the boy's dismay, while Blossom rubbed his back in an effort to comfort him.

"Well it has to be something big if everyone is freaking out about it," Blossom said, taking a seat on her boyfriend's lap with Butch wrapping his arms around her.

"Obviously, Pinky."

"Is there any school spirit things going on?" Brick asked, speaking mostly towards Blossom since she tended to be more aware of such things than the two green-eyed individuals.

Blossom shook her head, "None that I can think of―Well, none that I speak of, but that's not until another week or so."

"Then what the fuck-"

"Hey guys," Boomer greeted with his arm wrapped securely around Bubbles.

The blonde's appearance made everyone at the table raise both of their eyebrows. Bubbles' usual bouncy curls were in array of a frizzy mess, sticking out in every direction, while her clothes were wrinkled all over. There was no sight of her famous perky smile as dark circles and under eye bags replaced it. She was also clinging to a venti sized cup of coffee, treating it like it was her own child.

"Bubbles-"

"What the-"

"Fuck-"

"Happened?"

Bubbles pointed to the crowd around the fountain, her finger shakes from the lack of sleep and a large amount of caffeine she consumed.

"And?" Buttercup questioned, raising her eyebrow higher. "What the fuck is going on there?"

"She's…" Bubbles gulped, having flashbacks from the night before. "She's back."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Buttercup shouted, jumping up to stand on the table to gain a better view over the crowd.

"I thought she got expelled?" Butch asked confusingly, flickering his emerald eyes to Blossom for an answer.

"No," Blossom answered bitterly. "She had to spend a year studying abroad as a punishment."

"It's crazy how rich people view punishments," Boomer quipped.

Brick, who was lost by the group's distraught behavior, looked at each one, begging for an answer. "Who the fuck are you talking about?"

Bubbles froze, staring Brick dead in the eyes and shaking her head, "The most vilest-"

"Vain-" Boomer continued.

"Desperate-" Blossom added.

"Ugly ass-" Butch sneered.

"Spoiled bitch," Buttercup finished, jumping down from the table. She looked at Blossom, speaking directly to her, "And Bubbles is right. _She is back_."

"Great," Blossom said flatly, staring at her nails.

Brick, still feeling left out, searched the group for an answer. "Seriously guys, who the fuck is it?"

Blossom met his crimson eyes, looking as if she had seen years of destruction. "Two words. _Princess Morbucks_."

* * *

Princess Morbucks was the daughter of Malcolm Morbucks, one of the richest men in the nation. How Malcolm made his riches was not known to anyone outside of his family, which has prompted numerous students at Townsville to create theories about the man's profession—the heavy favorite by the student body was Boomer's idea of Mr. Morbucks being the head of the Russian mafia.

Given who her father was, Princess was disgustingly rich. A fact she liked to rub in the faces of all her classmates. Princess loved to bribe her way out every situation and, during her freshmen year, she paid a group of upperclassmen to be her friends to gain popularity. Her plan worked as she became the most talked about freshmen on campus—but this only lasted for a month.

After a few seniors noticed Blossom and her beauty, she soon became the most popular freshmen. This swiftly established a rivalry between the two as Princess was jealous of Blossom not needing to use her wealth to rise to a higher social standing. Princess was also envious of Blossom's effortless allure and the winning of Butch's affections, who was curly haired girl's crush since the first day she met him. While Blossom went along with the rivalry due to her own ruthless competitive nature and mainly for the sole fact she could not stand Princess to begin with.

The two were in constant competition with each other―with Blossom generally coming out victorious―for the first two years of school. Their rivalry, however, was put on hold when Princess went on a drunken rampage after losing the Homecoming Princess crown to Blossom, in which she streaked across campus and caused a sizable amount of property damage to the Academy. Instead of getting expelled, Mr. Morbucks struck a deal with Him to just have Princess disappear for a year, a perfect length of time to let everything die down. And after being stuck in an all-girls boarding school in the Swiss Alps, Princess was ready to reclaim her title at Townsville Academy.

However, she did not expect to get _so_ distracted from her goal so soon.

Once she made her presence known to rest of the school, Princess broke away from the crowd, heading straight for Blossom's table to reclaim it as her own. She grimaced at the sight of the popular redhead, who sat on her boyfriend's lap, laughing at something being said. Princess also was not particularly happy to see Buttercup, who after Blossom, Princess hated the most. Then there was Bubbles―her roommate―and her idiot boyfriend. The couple never bothered Princess other than the fact they were friends with Blossom. It was the same scene she was accustomed to seeing from the group of friends.

However, Princess was shocked to see another person at their table as they were extremely exclusive of a social circle, not having let anyone join since the group was formed freshmen year, despite all the classmates who attempted to make it in with them for the past three years―including Princess. She was only able to see the back of his head, which was adorned with a red baseball cap—Princess was practically gagging. As she was a good ten feet from them, the bell rang for the students to start heading to class and the group went their separate directions

That was when she _really_ saw him.

The red hat was misleading because when he turned around, Princess became instantly obsessed. He had the sharpest jawline she had even seen, and to Princess, his body appeared to be perfectly cut by the Gods themselves—the tight t-shirt he wore helped Princess determine this. She was practically swooning at just the small sight of him.

Princess thought about chasing after him, only to lose track of him in the crowd of students on their way to class. Instead, she grabbed the nearest person to her.

"Who's the guy in the red hat?" she questioned.

Princess instantly recognized who she pulled over. It was the mousy brunette who desperately wanted to be Blossom. She was pretty sure the girl's name was either Raven or Robin.

"Oh," Robin blinked. At first she was a bit frightened by Princess grabbing her, but Robin felt a sense of relief by the redhead's question. "That's Brick."

"Brick, huh?" Princess smiled. "And what is he like?"

Robin raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Princess' interest in Brick. "He's pretty cool. Friendly enough to everyone; beat out Butch for Homecoming King. He's also the new star athlete here—plays football and lacrosse. Plus, most of the girls here cannot get enough of him."

"So he's a man whore?"

"No," Robin shook her head. "He's never really been associated with anyone—well, except for Stacey Salcedo, but that was strictly one-sided on her part."

" _Perfect_ ," Princess purred. The more lack of experience, the better for her.

"Actually, now that I think about it, there could be one person he might be attached to," Robin hinted, thinking back to the meeting with the homecoming court nominees.

"Who?"

"He's _pretty_ close with Blossom," Robin revealed. " _Too close_ if you ask me."

Princess clenched her fists at the name, suppressing the urge to punch the nearest object. She should have figured this was going to happen. Of course, Blossom has the attention of the one guy Princess had taken interest in, even though the pink-eyed girl already had a boyfriend. Blossom always got whatever she wanted and more, and it pissed Princess off to new extremes. This just furthered her want and need to take the pink-eyed girl down.

"That's going to change real fucking quick."

* * *

"She had me up until 4 in the morning, Blossom," Bubbles shrilled, still nursing her cup of coffee from the morning and leaning against the cool surface of the school's lockers.

"Doing what?" Blossom asked, opening her locker to switch her books.

"It's all a blur. I remember a crew coming in to build her a vanity and then there were piles and piles of clothes. After that, everything is a jumbled mess of her cackling and the color gold."

" _Gold_?"

Bubbles nodded quickly, her eye twitching, "Gold. Gold everywhere."

"That sounds—"

"It was terrifying, Blossom," Bubbles whined. "I don't want to live there anymore."

"Is there any more rooms available?" Blossom asked with a hint of irritation. She was never a fan when Bubbles whined.

"No. I checked this morning. Everyone already has a roommate."

Blossom closed her locker, shrugging her shoulders, "That sucks, Bubs."

"I know," she cried. "I'm stuck with her for the rest of the year."

"At least the first semester is almost over," Blossom pointed out.

Bubbles nodded, "That is one way to look at it," she commented, taking a sip of, now cold, coffee.

"Yeah. And you know my room is available—"

"Hey, Barbie bitch!" a familiar voice shouted down the hall. Bubbles, Blossom, and another blonde near them turned to see who was calling out, believing the derogatory term was used towards one of them individually. Blossom groaned immediately when she saw it was Princess, while Bubbles cowered behind Blossom. Princess rolled her eyes at the other two girls who were not Blossom, "I'm not talking to you bimbos. Only this bitch," Princess snarled, pointing at the redhead.

The other blonde ran away at the dismissal and Bubbles slowly backed away without Blossom noticing until the redhead turned to make a snide remark, only to find the hall empty. She was so going to get Bubbles back for this.

" _Princess_ ," Blossom scoffed. "I see the Swiss didn't fix your attitude."

Princess laughed—which was more like a nastily cackle—walking over to the other redhead until they were at least a foot a part. Blossom folded her arms, staring the curly-haired girl down. Princess simply grinned at Blossom's displeasure.

"Missed me, bitch?"

Now it was Blossom's turn to laugh.

"Never even thought about you."

"That's too bad."

"Not really—"

"Let's just cut this shit out for now," Princess announced, catching Blossom off guard. Blossom raised an eyebrow as Princess continued, "I heard you're _pretty close_ with your new friend. Brick, I believe?"

Blossom narrowed her eyes at the girl, "We're good friends."

" _Just friends_?"

Blossom chewed on her bottom lip, not wanting to answer the question. She did not know how to answer it in all actuality. Things have gotten too complicated for her and Brick to simply say they were just friends. But she could not let anyone else know that, especially Princess of all people.

"Yup," Blossom lied.

Princess smiled smugly, "That's good to know," she cackled, turning on her heel and disappearing down the hall.

Blossom glared at Princess until she was out of sight, and then sighed. It did not take much for her to understand that Princess has already taken interest in Brick, and Blossom was not happy about it. Like how she felt about Stacey, Blossom had a sense of being territorial towards Brick. Even if things were a mess between the two, Blossom was not going to subject him to the torture of dating Princess or even the idea of it.

* * *

"You wanted to see me?" Butch asked flatly, peering his head into Him's office. He was not entirely excited to be in the presence of his principal, but it did get him out of biology, so Butch did not have much to complain about.

"Yes. Have a seat, Mr. Santos."

Butch did so, taking in a deep breath and choking on the strong fruity smell of the office. Him really needed to find a new air freshener.

"What's up, Him?"

"Oh, Butch," Him grimaced, opening a folder and passing a sheet of paper to the student. "You're such a pleasure."

"Funny. My mom would say the same thing to me all the time," Butch joked, grabbing the paper. He raised an eyebrow in confusion, not understanding all the numbers on it.

"It's your quarterly progress," Him clarified. "It's a vast improvement from the beginning of the year."

Butch grinned proudly, "Well–"

"But you're still not off the hook, Mr. Santos," the principal revealed as Butch's expression fell. "You still have a month in this semester and the other one to deal with."

"So? I'm pretty sure I can make it work."

"Perhaps I'm not being clear enough," Him continued. "Despite your efforts, you're still at a high risk of being expelled."

"I am?" Butch questioned, shocked. He figured since his grades improved and he was staying out of trouble, it meant Him would forget about kicking him out. Apparently, that was far from the truth.

"Unfortunately so," Him nodded. "You will need to continue your process academically and steer clear of any trouble."

" _Great_ ," Butch seethed. "Are done here?"

"Yes–"

"Well, it was nice–"

"Mr. Santos," Him interjected loudly in an intimidating deep voice, which shut Butch up. Him smiled, reverting to a more calm demeanor, "I would like to say, _I am_ tremendously proud of your attempts to clean up your act."

Butch blinked at Him's remarks, surprised by what was being said. Him was proud of him? Has hell frozen over?

"Um… thanks?" Butch coughed. He awkwardly stared at his principal, waiting for a response back.

Him shuffled some papers together, "You can go now," the principal ordered.

Butch jumped up immediately, "Thank God," he responded, practically running out of the office.

* * *

On his way to the group's picnic table for lunch, Brick greeted those who passed by him and whistled a happy tune. He was finally feeling like his old self. The Brick who was the center of attention at his old school and all the girls fawned over. With how things were going academically and his athletic opportunities, he could not be more satisfied. He ended up joining the lacrosse team once Brick realized how bored he was after football ended. Brick was also informed by Him that he was closing in on becoming the salutatorian―he had the slight edge over Dexter for having higher test scores. Furthermore, Brick had made a verbal commitment to Stanford over the weekend. Since he knew where he will be attending next year, Brick had a new sense of relief and comfort. He was glad to not have to worry about college anymore—all he had to do was keep up his grades and stay in shape, which neither were going to be challenging for him.

After three months of being in a continuous fish out of water situation, Brick was content with every aspect of his life. He felt like the world was his oyster and there was nothing he could not have.

"Hey Brick."

Well, there was just one thing he could not have.

"Hey, Bloss," Brick greeted, stopping in his path to their table.

Blossom put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him over to a shady area of the courtyard. She glanced her pink eyes around, making sure the coast was clear while Brick folded his eyebrows in confusion.

"Hey, so there's something I need to talk to you about," Blossom said cautiously, not wanting Brick to get the wrong idea.

Of course, that was how Brick took it, his eyes widening. Brick thought of how things ended the week before—them almost kissing and her deciding to go through with opening up to Butch—Blossom would be avoiding him like the plague. However, that was not the case. The two simply acted like nothing had occurred—which was what they generally did all the time. He and Blossom would still hang out or get dinner alone together without discussing the awkward tension between them.

With that, Brick was a little surprised by Blossom pulling him aside—noting that nothing good ever happens in shady, unseen locations. She obviously did not want anyone to see, which made Brick's mind go berserk with the question as to why. His chest tightened in response as he hoped for one single reason to answer his question.

"What is it?"

Blossom sighed, downcasting her eyes, "Look. So, I, um, have this thing–"

"Blossom!"

The redhead's face instantly went sour, her eyes darting to where the voice came from. Blossom grimaced at the sight of the frizzy red curls and last season _Jimmy Choos_.

"Princess," she seethed. Blossom cursed silently to herself. She should have picked a more secluded space to warn Brick about Princess. The curly haired fiend must have spotted them in the courtyard.

Brick turned quickly around to catch sight of their infamous classmate. A spray of freckles fashioned her face. Her red hair could be compared to same hue of the _Little Mermaid's_ hair, which Brick was pretty sure could not possible be a natural hair color. She was at least five feet and still possessed a little bit of baby fat, making her have a round face.

There was not exactly anything frightening about the tiny girl. Brick could not see why the rest of his friends made such a big deal about her, especially Bubbles. She actually reminded him of a _Cabbage Patch_ doll his mom used to have as a child. But then again, he remembered how his friends reacted to the very thought of the Princess returning. Perhaps she was way worst than her appearance led on.

"Are you going to introduce me to your _friend_?" Princess hinted, fluttering her eyes at Brick. He noted the obnoxious nasal tone her voice possessed.

"No–"

"Brick Adams," Brick smiled, sticking out his hand for her to shake, wanting to at least be polite. Princess accepted gleefully, extending the handshake longer than it needed—his hands were way stronger and bigger than she thought, making Princess have fantasies about all the things he could do with them. Brick subtly pulled away, shoving his hands into his pockets to prevent her from doing it again. "It's nice to meet you."

"Oh. It's my _pleasure_ ," Princess cooed. Blossom was practically gagging. Princess began rapidly asking Brick questions about his likes and interests, trying to learn more about him but also to show her keen interest in him―she knew guys love it when girls were practically obsessed with them.

However, Brick did not notice her blatant attempts to impress him. He was too distracted pondering over what Blossom was about to say. Brick would glance back to Blossom after every thirty seconds or so, begging to know what she wanted. As he did this, Brick would give Princess short and dry responses to her questions. He was not even actively processing anything, having no recollection of what she was asking.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Blossom interjected, annoyed by Princess' obsessive interrogation. At least she did not have to worry about Brick being interested, given his lackluster responses to the curly-haired girl. "Literally anywhere else?"

"Excuse me, Blossom, but I'm just trying to get to know our new classmate," Princess responded, trying to sound innocent. She turned to Brick, lightly touching his arm—Princess was even more impressed with how toned his muscles were and could not wait to have them wrapped tightly around her. "She can be so rude sometimes."

"I can hear you," Blossom warned, tapping her foot impatiently and folding her arms.

"Let's just ignore her," Princess whispered to Brick, tracing her finger up and down his arm. Brick raised an eyebrow at the action. What the hell was going on?

"Princess. Can you leave?" Blossom huffed. "Brick and I were in the middle of an _important_ conversation. Right, Brick?"

"Oh really?" Princess questioned before Brick could respond. "Or is this just lie to get me to leave? You know, Blossom, lying _is_ sinful."

"Oh great," Blossom rolled her eyes. "You come back from Switzerland and now you think you're Jesus Christ himself."

"I am pretty Godly," Princess beamed to herself, imagining fondly what it would be like to be a Goddess.

Blossom groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, "Again. I need to have an _important_ conversation with Brick."

"I don't believe you," Princess challenged, taking a step towards Blossom. Their standing was eerily familiar to the standoff they had earlier that morning.

"Just ask Brick."

"Fine," Princess responded, looking over her shoulder to Brick. "Were you _really_ having a major discussion with Blossom? Or would rather continue talking me?"

Brick blinked at Princess, puzzled by her last question. Why would he want to talk to her? They barely knew each other.

Plus, he _really_ wanted to know what Blossom had to say.

"Um, I would like to finish my conversation with Blossom," he answered. Princess grimaced at Brick's response, while Blossom smirked since Brick was choosing her over Princess.

"Ha!" Blossom boasted, sticking out her tongue at Princess.

" _Real mature_ , Blossom," Princess grumbled.

"Whatever, Princess. You can leave now," Blossom dismissed, waving the curly-haired girl away.

Princess glared at her as Blossom had won this battle. However, Princess did find one positive from the situation. She now knew that Blossom was lying earlier. Why else would Blossom get so easily jealous and threatened by Princess' simple flirting towards Brick? Princess smirked to herself for a second at the discovery of this knowledge. She flipped her red hair, brushing her hand against Brick's arm again, "Bye, Brick. I hope to see you _real_ soon," Princess purred lowly in his ear, making Brick cringe, as she left the two alone.

Blossom gagged again at Princess' obvious and terrible attempts of flirting, "Thank God, she's gone."

"Yeah. What was that all about?" Brick questioned.

"We have a lengthy history," Blossom answered, rolling her eyes.

"Right…" Brick nodded slowly. "So what did you need to talk about?"

"I think it's pretty obvious after what just happened."

Brick raised an eyebrow, unclear about what she meant. What happened was: Princess interrupting them, a ridiculous amount of questions from her, and Blossom relentlessly trying to get rid of her. It was kind of amusing how much Blossom wanted Princess to leave. To Brick, it seemed like Princess' attention towards him agitated Blossom, almost to the point to where it seemed she was jealous. He knew it made him sound conceited―Blossom did just state they had a history―but perhaps that was why she was so bothered. That she was envious of another girl having Brick's attention. And maybe it was a factor in what Blossom wanted to talk about.

Brick sure hoped it was.

"Kind of," Brick responded, choosing his words carefully in case he was wrong.

"Come on, Brick. It's completely desperate."

Brick furrowed his brows, "I don't think it is, Bloss."

"Seriously?" Blossom snorted.

"Yeah, I do."

"So you're into Princess having a crush on you?"

"Wait. What?" Brick exclaimed, his eyes widened. "She likes me? I barely know her."

"There's this thing called lust–"

"Yes. Yes, I know, Blossom," Brick grimaced. "But _Princess_? Isn't she a terrible person?"

Blossom nodded, grinning at his reaction. Yup, there was no chance of them becoming a couple. Brick will remain Blossom's.

He will remain her friend, she reminded herself.

"She's the worst of the worst."

"Of course," Brick sighed. He was starting to believe he was only able to attract everyone except for the girl he truly wanted. Princess was probably the worst person to like him though. She could scare Blossom away or ruin their friendship as an act of revenge against the pink-eyed girl. Blossom obviously was not a fan of Princess' flirting—which, now that he looked back on it, was pretty pathetic. How come he did not notice her flirtations before?

He met Blossom's eyes.

Right. That was why.

"Hey. It could be worst," Blossom said, attempting to comfort Brick.

"How?"

Blossom chewed on her bottom lip, sighing, "Yeah. You're right. This is pretty bad."

"I can't even be happy that you said I was right," Brick muttered.

"Really?"

"Nope." Brick shook his head, grinning. "I'll _never_ get over that."

" _Great_ ," Blossom groaned.

* * *

"How do you feel about asparagus?" Blossom asked, looking up from the _Vogue_ magazine she was reading.

"Not a big fan," Buttercup responded from her bed, flipping to the next page of the latest _Batman_ comic. "Too chewy for me."

"Really?"

"Yeah… Would you rather be able to fly or have the power of invisibility?"

Blossom tapped on her chin in thought, "Probably flight."

Buttercup looked over her comic, raising an eyebrow, "I figured you would choose—"

Before Buttercup could finish her sentence, there suddenly was a loud and furious knock at their door. The roommates glanced at each other, knowing exactly who was behind the door, and neither wanted to get up and deal with the person.

"Rock, paper, scissors?" Buttercup suggested. Blossom nodded.

"Okay… rock, paper, scissor, shoot!" Blossom exclaimed as Buttercup chose paper while she picked scissor.

"Dammit!" Buttercup groaned, getting up from her bed and reluctantly opening the door. She tried to create a small amount space between the door and her so the person could not welcome themselves in. "Hey, Bubs–"

"Oh thank God," Bubbles huffed, pushing the door wide open and making her way to sit in Blossom's desk chair. She wore dingy pajamas with a sleeping mask on her head and carried a stuffed octopus. The dark circles under her eyes were growing in size with each day.

"Yes. Just welcome yourself in our room, why don't you," Buttercup said sarcastically, closing the door and jumping back on her bed.

"I'm sorry but Blossom did say I was welcome here whenever I wanted," Bubbles pointed out.

"Oh, did she?" Buttercup narrowed her eyes at her roommate. "I didn't know about this."

Blossom hid her face behind the magazine she was reading, avoiding Buttercup's stare, "Oops."

"Oops doesn't fix–"

"If it's too much trouble, I'll leave," Bubbles interjected, feeling unwelcomed.

"No, no, no," the roommates said in unison to reassure the blonde that she was indeed welcomed in their room, despite neither of them wanting her there. They only allowed it because they knew Bubbles would throw herself a pity party about it and make herself out as the victim once again.

"Yay!" The blonde clapped. Both Blossom and Buttercup cringed at the loudness. Bubbles glanced back and forth at the two, grinning, "Is it alright if I stay here tonight? Just so I catch up on my sleep and then I'll be able to deal with Princess."

"Bubs, I don't—"

"Ooo, it would be like one giant sleepover," Bubbles clapped again. "I haven't had one of those since I was seven."

"Yeah, well that's because only seven-year-olds should be having sleepovers," Buttercup grumbled under breath.

"What was that, Buttercup?" Bubbles asked, not hearing what she said.

"Oh nothing," Buttercup smiled sheepishly.

"So is it okay?"

"Um…"

Blossom wanted to say no. She really did. But seeing how excited Bubbles was and knowing how sleep deprived the girl was, Blossom could not say no.

"Yeah, you can stay," Blossom sighed. She felt Buttercup glaring at her, but she ignored it by reading her magazine again.

"Thank you so much," Bubbles beamed. "I haven't slept since Sunday."

"Bubs… it's Wednesday."

"I thought it was Monday," Bubbles confessed, eyes widened.

"How? That's was the morning after Princess came back," Blossom pointed out, lowering her reading material. "You should have realized at least one day had passed."

"I haven't slept since Sunday," Bubbles restated. Blossom nodded, now understanding.

"Ugh. I can't believe that fucking bitch is back," Buttercup complained.

"Buttercup, none of us like her, but please don't call her that," Blossom advised.

"Fine," Buttercup huffed. "And I don't just not like her, I fucking hate her."

"She is the worst person I've ever met," Bubbles added.

"I know," Blossom sighed.

"She's done so much ridiculous shit. I don't understand why Him still lets her attend here."

"Money," Bubbles answered.

"Man, I hate people with too much money—well, except for you, Blossom," Buttercup smiled sheepishly.

Blossom nodded, her eyes narrowed at the green-eyed girl, " _Right_."

"Remember the time when she stole all of our clothes after gym?" Bubbles recounted. "I still have nightmares about that."

Buttercup snorted, "Or when she tried to make Blossom's parents go bankrupt."

Blossom chuckled at the memory, "Oh yeah. That's the year we bought another beach house in Martha's Vineyard after the corporate takeover of the Morbucks' accounting department—the house is a little too small for my liking though. There was a better one in the Hamptons we should have bought."

"Let me restate my opinion, I hate people with too much money."

Blossom rolled her eyes, "You weren't complaining when I paid for our trip to Europe last spring break."

"What trip?" Bubbles questioned, glancing back and forth at the two.

Buttercup smiled sheepishly, appearing flustered—which was a rare occasion. "Man. Princess is just terrible," she continued. "I wonder what she's going to do next to us."

"The worst thing ever possible," Blossom grimaced. "She wants to date Brick now."

Bubbles and Buttercup blinked in response, confused by Blossom's idea of the "worst thing ever".

"Um, Blossom. Princess literally tried to get Bubbles deported once, and you think her wanting to date Brick is the worst thing?"

"She did?" Blossom asked, ignoring the Brick part. She was hoping Buttercup and Bubbles would forget her little slip-up. "What kind of idiot tries to deport a Puerto Rican?"

Bubbles nodded, "Yeah. She wasn't so pleased to find out Puerto Ricans are legal citizens to America."

"Yeah. If she wanted to deport someone, she should have tried me or Blossom," Buttercup joked, keeping her eyes on Blossom. She was fully aware of the redhead's attempt to change the subject.

"Actually, I'm legal too."

"Well, if I'm shipped back to Japan, we all know who it was."

Blossom and Bubbles laughed at Buttercup's response as she stared at Blossom. She could not believe Blossom thought Princess having a crush on Mr. Perfect was the worst thing ever. It only confirmed her suspicions even more.

"You know, we should get Princess kicked out again," Blossom added. "But this time, it should be permanent."

"We can't do that," Bubbles replied. "As much as I don't like her, I don't want to do anything drastically bad to her. It would be like sinking to her level."

"Why not? She tried to get you deported for crying out loud."

"I just—"

"Is this because you're threatened by her sudden interest in Brick, Blossom? Is that why you want to get rid of her so badly?" Buttercup inquired, narrowing her eyes at the strawberry blonde. "Because you want him to only be obsessed with you?"

She felt a sense of relief for finally being able to confront Blossom about the observations she has made during the past three months. Even though she did not care much about Butch and his feelings—she never did, she reminded herself—Buttercup did not want Blossom doing anything to him that could leave him heartbroken.

"No!" Blossom croaked. "I want her gone because I literally can't stand her."

"Are you—"

"I couldn't stand her before I was even aware Brick existed, so why would he even be a factor, Buttercup?" Blossom argued.

She was offended by what Buttercup was insinuating. Buttercup was making it sound like Blossom was jealous of Princess.

Blossom would _never_ be jealous of Princess.

Also, why did she have to bring Brick into it? He was not obsessed with her, and even if Brick was, Blossom would not allow that type of unhealthy behavior to continue on. Brick only… well, she was not exactly sure what Brick thought of her. Blossom only knew Brick wanted to attend homecoming with her, trusted her, and thought highly of her, which she appreciated.

Blossom loved how Brick treated her.

She also liked how Butch treated her, she told herself. Butch was the only guy she wanted to be with. There was nothing more to it.

Yet, after their almost kiss last week, Blossom has not been able to get Brick off her mind. It was not in a romantic way. It was more like wondering what he thought of it and how it appeared. She wanted to know if he would have kissed her if their classmates did not pass by. However, Blossom _never_ thought about what could have happened if it did actually happened.

She _never_ wished that it really happened so she could know.

Blossom did think about how she did not feel guilty or regretted almost kissing him. She only felt regret over...

She only had Brick on her mind because there was a lot of questions regarding what happened and Blossom was a curious person. That was all, Blossom convinced herself.

They were just _very_ complicated friends.

"I don't know, Blossom. Why don't you tell me?" Buttercup challenged. "Or maybe I should ask Bu—"

"I think I'm going to leave," Bubbles announced, becoming uncomfortable by the thick amount of tension in the room. She quickly sat up, heading towards the door.

"I'm going to do the same," Blossom huffed, joining Bubbles. She slammed the door on the way out, making the walls shake.

Buttercup rolled her eyes, grabbing her comic book and resuming her reading, "People can be so touchy these days."

* * *

"Thanks for letting me stay here tonight," Bubbles said when Boomer opened his door. She kissed his cheek, entering the dorm room while he closed the door.

"Of course, babe."

"Where's Dexter?" she asked, noticing his side was vacant.

"Library. He likes to stay there until it closes."

"Wow. He really likes to read."

"Really? I thought he stayed there for the movie room."

Bubbles shook her head at her boyfriend's obliviousness, "Boomy…"

"Yeah, I should have figured that one of out on my own," Boomer confessed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh well."

"Is he fine with me staying?"

"Yeah…"

"You didn't ask, didn't you?"

"Yup," Boomer nodded. "But it'll be alright. Dexter doesn't mind you."

Bubbles smiled at the remark. It was not easy to get on the redhead's good side, so Bubbles was happy he somewhat liked her.

"That's so sweet."

"Yeah—oh, I made my bed for you," Boomer pointed out. "And I cleaned my sheets. It did take me an hour to figure out how to work the washing machine but you're worth it. However, my sheets strangely turned pink afterward."

"Oh, Boomy," Bubbles chuckled, kissing him. "You didn't have to do that."

"Of course, I did," he reassured. "I want you to have a good night's sleep and nothing is better than clean sheets to achieve that—or at least, that's what my mom always told me."

Bubbles giggled, taking a seat on the bed. "So we're sharing the bed together?"

"Nope."

"Where are you going to sleep?" Bubbles asked with concern in her voice. She did not want to make Boomer sacrifice his sleep for her own sake.

"Sleeping bag," Boomer answered, grabbing his bundled up sleeping bag from the closet he shared with Dexter.

"Babe, you can't—"

"Bubs, it's fine. I like sleeping in these things." He spread out the bag on the floor. "Makes me feel like I'm a giant sausage," Boomer grinned widely, opening the sleeping bag and getting himself comfortable in it.

"You sure?" Bubbles asked as she laid herself down on his bed, breathing in the smell of sandalwood and laundry detergent the clean linens possessed.

"Definitely," Boomer nodded, turning on his side and looking underneath the bed. "Plus, I can make sure the monsters under my bed wouldn't do anything to harm you."

Bubbles chuckled at her boyfriend's childish nature, pulling the covers over herself and closing her eyes for the first time in almost four days. "Babe. There are no monsters under the bed."

"That's just exactly what they want you to believe," he mumbled to himself, narrowing his eyes.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, honey."

"Alright. Goodnight, love," Bubbles yawned.

"Goodnight," Boomer smiled.

* * *

In an effort to continue his progress, whenever he knew most of his classmates have gone to their rooms for the night, Butch would sneak off to the library. The environment of the building helped him focus entirely on studying—Butch could not do so in his dorm room due to feeling embarrassed with Brick around, which was why he kept his venture to the library a secret.

The only person who knew about his secret was Dexter.

The self-proclaimed genius liked to stay there until the building closed, making it impossible for Butch to avoid him. After dodging him for two weeks so Dexter would not notice, Butch decided to just threaten the short ginger so he would not tell anyone. Dexter reluctantly obeyed afterward. Without having to worry about Dexter revealing his secret, Butch was able to study with no problems.

He had a huge exam for his macroeconomics class in a few days and he needed to find a textbook to help him get a better understanding on inflation. Searching the top of the bookshelves and squatting to the bottom of the shelf, Butch led his finger across each spine of the shelved books, searching for anything to help with his related topic.

"Fuck yeah," Butch mumbled to himself once he found a book he needed, opening it up and flipped through the pages.

"Butch?" a voice questioned.

Butch looked up from the book, then proceeded to close it, standing back up and raising an eyebrow. "Princess."

"Have I been gone too long? You finally learned how to read?" she quipped.

"Ha, ha," Butch deadpanned, walking past her. "Real clever."

Princess followed him, narrowing her eyes, "But for real, why are you here? I didn't even think you knew this place existed."

Butch rolled his eyes, turning to the curly-haired girl. "I'm picking up a book for Blossom," he lied.

Princess snorted, "She has you doing errands now? How domestic."

"Yup," he responded. "And let me save you from the whole "break up with her and be with me" speech. I'm not interested and _never_ will be."

"Oh, I wasn't going to," Princess revealed, laughing at Butch's assumption. "I'm just here to pick up my textbooks."

"This late?"

"I have a status to maintain, Butch," she answered, patting Butch's shoulder. He took a step back, shooing away her hand. "I wouldn't be caught dead here during broad daylight."

" _Right..._ "

"And besides, I have a new guy I'm interested in," Princess continued. "You have officially missed out on your opportunity to date me."

" _How tragic_ ," Butch deadpanned, trying to escape the conversation by subtly taking a few steps away from her. She must have noticed, because every step he took back, Princess would take one forward.

"It truly is," Princess responded, her eyes flickering with mischievousness. "Actually, I believe you know him. His name is Brick Adams."

"Brick?" Butch questioned, his voice cracking a little in disbelief—which he was puzzled by, his voice has not cracked since he began puberty at age 12. He folded his eyebrows in disbelief. Why did every girl like Brick now? It was getting ridiculous.

"Yes, him. Is there something wrong with him?"

"Well actually," Butch paused, stopping himself. He noticed how Princess eagerly waited for his response. He shook his head, "There's nothing wrong him. He's fucking perfect," Butch said through his teeth.

Princess nodded, twirling a finger around one of her curls, "I'm glad to hear that. I was little concern about him but if you think he's okay, then I see no problem."

"That's… _great_?" Butch responded.

"And I got to say, it's pretty big of you not to be bothered by him trying to steal your girlfriend," Princess baited, smiling smugly. "Definitely not the same enraged and easily jealous Butch I remember from a year ago."

Butch blinked in response, tightening his grab on the book he held. "Stealing my girlfriend?" he laughed off. "That is the most ridiculous shit I've ever heard from you," Butch lied.

Princess raised an eyebrow, not falling for Butch's deception. "Whatever you say, Butch. I would just keep an eye out," she went on. "They seem _pretty close_ , and I've only been back for four days now."

Butch continued to fake laughing, "Uh huh. _Sure_ , Princess. And you sure this isn't one of your plans to break up me and Blossom?"

"No!"

"Not even a little?" Butch questioned, narrowing his eyes.

"Fine. Maybe a little," Princess huffed. "But I'm not lying about Brick. And Blossom seems-"

"Right. Like I'm going to believe you," Butch dismissed, cutting her off. He glanced over to the door, which was at least ten feet away from. "Well, I would say it was pleasant catching up with you, but it wasn't. So good luck with the whole Brick thing," Butch finished, practically running out the door before Princess could response.

After reaching a safe distance from the library so Princess could not follow, Butch stopped in his steps, wiping the few droplets of sweat off of his forehead.

He gazed up at the sky, taking in the array of stars while a cool November breeze hit him. His mind was a mess, reflecting on the conversation he just had with Princess.

Brick was trying to steal his girlfriend.

It was not the first time this was brought to his attention.

After homecoming and Buttercup's revelation about his roommate, Butch decided to ignore what she had said. Sure, maybe Brick had a little crush on Blossom. Everyone had a crush on her at some point—even Boomer did before he found out Bubbles existed. Butch did not see the problem in it since Blossom chose to be with him that night, and every day after the fact. Also, Butch did not want to make things awkward between him and Brick after everything that occurred at homecoming game and before the dance. Furthermore, his relationship with Blossom has never been better than it was at the moment, so what was the point of starting problems when there possibly was not any?

So Butch did not feel threatened by Brick's supposive crush as he was firmly secure in his relationship with Blossom.

Yet, having Princess warn him about his roommate, did not sit well with Butch. It was one thing to hear it from Buttercup—a person he did not like but knew would at least have his best interest at heart. Buttercup, he could trust; Princess, however, was the most manipulative and cunning person around.

Unlike Buttercup, Princess can spread rumors and ruin his relationship with Blossom, just for the fun of it.

He should have said something after homecoming. It could have stopped anything from becoming some form of knowledge to others outside of the situation. But now, he had to confront Brick.

When he entered his residency hall and reached the door to his room, Butch hesitated, taking a breath. He was not ready to accuse his close friend of trying to ruin his relationship.

His ears immediately perked up when he heard laughter coming from inside the room, but it was not just anyone's laughter. It was a laugh Butch knew all too well. He quickly unlocked the door, taking in the scene in front of him.

Blossom and Brick were on Brick's bed, a board game separating the two redheads as an _Amy Winehouse_ song played off of Brick's phone.

 _Amy Winehouse_ was Blossom's favorite singer but also was not the type of music Brick would _ever_ willingly listen to on his own. Someone was trying a little _too_ hard to impress someone else's girlfriend.

The two had a flash of panic in their eyes for a brief second before saving face and displaying welcoming smiles.

"Hey Butch," Brick greeted, waving at his roommate. He raised an eyebrow, "What's with the textbook?"

"Babe, what are you doing here?" Butch asked, closing their door and ignore Brick's question.

"Buttercup and I got in a fight," Blossom sighed.

"Really? What about?" Butch questioned, throwing the textbook on his pile of dirty clothes and sitting on Brick's desk chair to be closer to the two redheads.

"She's just on her period," Blossom lied. "She's always so hostile during this time."

"She's always hostile," Butch commented, chuckling to himself.

Blossom blinked at him, unimpressed. "Anyways, I came here looking for you but you were gone and Brick told me you should be back soon. So I decided to stay and wait for you."

Butch nodded, narrowing his eyes at the two, "How did you end up playing…" he glanced down to the board game that laid on Brick's bedspread. " _Monopoly_?"

"Well, while waiting, Brick and I started talking about college and how old we were feeling—"

"Which led to us reminiscing about our childhood and games we used to play―"

"And then we both found out we're pretty much the only people who actually enjoy playing _Monopoly_ ―"

"So I suggested we play since I remembered Dexter had the game," Brick finished. "And I was just about to kick Blossom's ass after finally getting a hold of Pennsylvania Avenue," he grinned, only looking at Blossom.

"That is so not true," Blossom challenged, grinning at the redhead. "I'm still two hundred dollars ahead of you."

"I'm going to take a shower," Butch suddenly announced, making the redheads realize once again that he was in the room.

"Okay," Brick responded, turning his attention back to Blossom. "Now let's get back to me kicking your ass."

"In your dreams, Brick."

"Hate to break it to you, but all of my dreams come true," Brick boasted. " _It only takes a matter of time,_ Bloss _._ "

"Oh, we'll see about that," Blossom challenged, making Butch gag a little as he closed the bathroom door, leaving the redheads alone.

Butch turned on the hot water, making it appear he was in the shower. He then stood in front of the mirror, staring at himself. Butch really wanted to punch the glass to take out his frustration but advised himself not to. He has made too much progress in his anger management to that. Despite his self control, Butch could not cease the irate thoughts in which formed in his mind.

Brick was trying to steal his girlfriend, and with, Butch needed to figure out a way to stop Brick from doing so.


	9. Battle Of The Sexes

Entering the school's gymnasium, the students of Townsville Academy were a buzzed. They were excited to get out of class earlier due to the fall pep rally for celebrating the end of all autumn sports. Athletes of each fall sports gathered and separated to their respective group on the eastern set of bleachers while those who did not participate in one, sat on the western bleachers. The gymnasium was full of laughter and smiles as they waited for the pep rally to begin.

While they awaited the festivities, the cheer team performed to provide entertainment. Those who were not consumed in a conversation were watching wistfully at the girls—and Mitch—carrying on their routines. For half of the team, this performance had a melancholic tone, for it was the final curtain call for all seniors on the squad. It was the last time they would ever have to put on the tight polyester uniforms—which was adorned with a skintight white long sleeve due to the chilly weather. Some of the girls had to blink away a few tears from their eyes while they performed, forcing a professional smile onto their faces.

The audience, however, did not have any knowledge of the emotions behind the cheerleading team's presentation as they applauded some of girls after a series of hardcore stunting. For the football team, no one cheered harder than their quarterback, who did not take his eyes off of his strawberry blonde girlfriend.

"God, she's gorgeous," Butch whistled as Blossom did a backflip. He always loved watching her perform because it brought out the best of her. Blossom could never contain the excitement within herself, allowing her to express more freely than she usually did. It was the uncensored Blossom—and truthfully, the moment Butch realized he was in love with Blossom was after she performed a dance routine almost a year ago during halftime at one of the school's basketball game.

Brick, who sat next to Butch, shrugged his shoulders. The two were required to sit in the same section due to football, but Brick was glad he would not have to be around Butch so much now. Not that he did not like Butch—he was one of Brick's closest friends at the Academy. Brick just needed a break from Butch, and when he said break, Brick really meant a break from having Butch's relationship rubbed in his face. Thankfully, the two were partaking in different sports for the winter season, with Brick doing lacrosse and Butch with basketball.

"Do they do this after every season?" Brick inquired, changing the subject.

Butch smirked, noting Brick's obvious subject change. He has been baiting the redhead lately after not being able to speak to Brick about his "crush" on Blossom. Instead of questioning him about it and making a fool of himself if it was untrue, Butch has been taking in subtle clues to guarantee his suspicions. So far, Butch was correct. _Very correct._

"Yup," Butch nodded. "But they're actually pretty late with it this year. Usually, they do it the week before all the fall sports end."

"I wonder why."

"Who really cares?" Butch shrugged. "I'm just glad we can celebrate the fact that the team had a winning season."

"Yeah," Brick grinned. The football team ended up having the best season they have ever had in the school's history, finishing 10-2. Despite not having a chance to compete for a championship, the members of the team were unanimously content not have a higher number of losses than wins for once. The only one not satisfied was Brick but he kept this opinion to himself as the rest of the guys deserved to commemorate their version of winning—Brick decided he will get another championship win when in college and the _NFL_ , which he knew the others will never be able to do.

"I also think—"

"Good afternoon, students," a whispery tone spoke to the gymnasium, ceasing all conversations as the students' all diverted their eyes to the principal who stood in the middle of the basketball court. Him smiled at the masses, "It is a pleasure to see all of you and having the opportunity to celebrate our athletes here at Townsville Academy."

Butch and Brick rolled their eyes as Him continued on with a lengthy speech. The principal seemed to go on for what seemed like an hour to the students but really was only ten minutes. Brick had to nudge Butch's shoulder when he noticed his green-eyed friend was slowly falling asleep.

"What the—"

Brick nudged him again, pointing down to Him. Butch sighed deeply, slumping his shoulders but focusing on his principal.

"And what that said, I would like to have our senior class president to make an exciting announcement," Him proclaimed, stepping aside and gesturing towards Blossom as she made her way towards Him and grabbed the microphone from the claw-like hands that belonged to her principal.

Blossom nodded at her principal before greeting the crowd. She surveyed through the bleachers, putting on a businesslike smile, introducing herself a little for the rare amount of freshmen who had no clue who she was. Afterward, Blossom began to speak about the exciting announcement.

"It is well known Townsville Academy used to be an all boys school, and thanks to our principal," Blossom gestured to Him, who smiled proudly, while the crowd rolled their eyes, "Our school is no longer segregated by gender." Blossom paused to build up an element of suspense. She grinned into the microphone, continuing, "That is true except for one weekend of the school year." The crowd lifted their eyebrows in excitement—all except for the freshmen and Brick who did not know what was going on. "That's right. It's the annual Battle of the Sexes weekend!" Those who were aware of the meaning behind the statement all cheered out, amped-up by the event. "And with that said," Blossom smiled wickedly, "May the best sex win."

* * *

"So what exactly is the "Battle of the Sexes" weekend?" Brick questioned once everyone gathered at the group's picnic table for lunch.

"One of the best Townsville traditions," Buttercup boasted from across the table. "It's the one time I can get away with kick some male ass."

Butch snorted, "Which never happens."

Buttercup raised an eyebrow in challenge, "But it did happen for the last three years. Right, Butchy?"

"Butchy?" Butch gagged, sticking his tongue out in disgust.

Blossom chuckled in response before turning her attention to Brick, who sat diagonally from her. "Given the name, it's a weekend where the males and females on campus compete against each other in various field day like activities. It's usually something like a couple of obstacle courses, tug-a-war, and balloon fight," Blossom shrugged. "And then there's big dinner in the gym the night after for the winning team and crowning of the MVP for each team."

"Not that big of a fan?" Brick grinned, cocking an eyebrow.

"I—"

"Of course, she fucking is," Buttercup answered. "Don't let Blossom's prissy behavior fool you, she is a full on competitor. Especially during the capture the flag event."

"Didn't you push Jared Cook into a bush covered in ticks last year?" Boomer recalled.

Blossom nodded reluctantly, narrowing her eyes, "He deserved it though. He thought just because he flirted with me, I would let him take our flag."

"That's my girl," Butch praised, smiling lovingly at Blossom.

"The dude got Lymes disease," Buttercup pointed out.

"I'm well aware. My father has to pay for his medical expenses."

"Limes disease? Does that mean he's allergic to limes?" Boomer questioned, while the rest of the table shook their head.

Bubbles patted his shoulder, "Oh Boomy…"

Brick glanced back to Blossom, grinning widely, "Well, I guess I wouldn't be messing with you all weekend."

"How will I ever cope?" Blossom smirked.

"Maybe you—"

Butch coughed loudly, interrupting the banter between the redheads. He glared at Brick briefly before turning his attention to Blossom. Both gulped at Butch's action, wondering why he was behaving harshly towards Brick.

To Brick, he was 90% sure Butch has caught wind of his crush on Blossom. It was only a matter of time before his roommate did so—Although, Brick did have to give him credit, he expected Butch to last at least one more month before finding out.

Blossom felt guilty for it as Brick was being treated poorly by her boyfriend. Despite going strong for a solid month and a half, Butch and she have hit another roadblock in their relationship. This time, it was Blossom's uncertainty towards Brick.

"Do we know where we'll staying before the events, babe?"

"What?" Brick asked.

"Before every games, all the girls stay on part of the campus while the guys are on the opposite," Bubbles answered. "It's like one big slumber party," she clapped gleefully.

Buttercup rolled her eyes, "It's more like camping," she reassured lowly to Brick. He nodded, liking Buttercup's description more.

"Yeah. Guys will get the football field this year and girls are in the library."

"Fuck yeah," Butch and Boomer exclaimed, high-fiving across the table.

"The fucking library?" Buttercup exasperated, while Bubbles squealed in response.

Blossom nodded, raising her perfectly groomed eyebrow, "It has air conditioning."

" _Right_ ," Buttercup smiled sheepishly. "I love the library."

"Do we really have to participate in this "sleepover"?" Brick questioned. He was not particular psyched about sleeping outside and not have the comfort of a mattress.

"Why? Scared of sleeping around a bunch of guys?" Blossom teased. "Is your masculinity that fragile?"

Brick smirked at her, "I'm pretty secure in my masculinity, Bloss. Do I need to prove that to you?"

"Oh," Blossom purred, leaning forward on the table. "I would love for you too—"

"Are they checking for alcohol this year?" Buttercup announced, breaking up the obvious flirting between the two. She was completely disgusted by Blossom's behavior, especially after Blossom gave Buttercup so much shit for questioning her about Brick. Buttercup was also not pleased they were being ballsy enough to act this way in front of Butch.

Buttercup flickered her eyes to Butch. He appeared as he wanted to murder someone, tightening his grip on the plastic silverware the school provided. Buttercup could feel nothing but sympathy for him—a surprising feeling she never thought she would ever feel.

"Yes," Blossom answered, shaking her head no simultaneously. Buttercup and Butch grinned at the fact.

"Um, Blossom. Is it a yes or no?" Boomer questioned.

"It's a no," Brick answered.

"But she said yes."

Bubbles patted his shoulder again, "I'll explain it to you later."

"Fine."

"So wait. We get alcohol, the football field, and then crush some girls the next day?" Butch listed off, exuberantly. "This is going to be the best fucking weekend ever!"

"What makes you think you're going to crush us?" Buttercup challenged.

"Man. I need let Mitch and Ace know," Butch continued, not acknowledging Buttercup on purpose. "It's going to be like freshmen year all over again."

Buttercup's face tightened at the mention of Mitch's name. The two were still an item but everything was starting to feel forced. The only time Buttercup saw Mitch was when she made plans for them to hang out―he even stopped showing up at the group's table during lunch. He only spoke to her if she started the conversation. As of lately, she has been contemplating breaking up with him but has procrastinated on the idea because she did not want her first relationship to be a major failure. Buttercup wanted to prove to everyone and herself that she was capable of being in a relationship. That she was worthy of having someone's affections. So she has been sticking it out with Mitch, hoping things will improve with time. However, it did not stop her from feeling sour whenever her boyfriend's name was mentioned as the entire ordeal brought out emotions she never wanted to deal with.

Blossom shared the same expression as Buttercup but for a different reason. "You're hanging out with Ace?" she questioned harshly.

Butch nodded, "Yeah. It's been awhile."

"Exactly. It's been awhile for a reason," Blossom seethed.

"You seriously can't be still mad." Butch narrowed his eyes at his girlfriend. "It was mostly my fault. I asked him to do it."

"I don't care," Blossom shrugged. "He's a snake and I don't like him."

"Too bad," Butch challenged. "He's my friend and I miss hanging out with him."

Blossom remained stoic towards Butch. Why would he want to hang out with Ace? All that slimy creep wanted to do, was break them up. If she was dating Brick, this would not be a problem.

Wait.

Why is she thinking about dating Brick?

Blossom pushed the thought out of mind, filing it under rejected ideas. Butch was her boyfriend. Her boyfriend who she loved dearly. She did not want to date Brick.

Right?

She stuffed the thought further in the rejected ideas section of her brain, never wanting it to cross her mind again.

There was no need to be confused about anything when she had the best boyfriend she could ask for. He really was the best, and maybe she was being too hard on him for the Ace situation.

Blossom sighed, "I'm not going to stand in your way."

"So you're giving me permission?" Butch asked flatly, while Brick and Buttercup snickered.

"I don't need to give you permission to do anything," Blossom respond. "I trust you to make the right decision."

Butch grinned, grabbing Blossom's hand and kissing it, "I always do because of you, babe."

Buttercup and Brick gagged at the interaction, while Bubbles cooed.

"You're so adorable," Bubbles complimented the couple.

"Yeah. So _fucking_ cute," Brick mumbled sarcastically.

"Got a problem dude?" Butch questioned, glaring at his roommate.

Brick put up his hands defensively, "What? No. Why would I?"

"I don't know. Maybe—"

"Who's excited about basketball season?" Buttercup interjected, preventing the boys from hanging out their dirty laundry in front of the entire courtyard of students—who were beginning to stare because of the loudness from their table. "I know I am. I can't wait to whoop ass this season."

* * *

"Are you done packing?" Boomer asked, entering Brick and Butch's room after knocking.

Butch nodded, zipping up his backpack for the night, "I still have to find my sleeping bag. I'll be down on the field in five."

"And Brick?"

Brick, who was sitting on his bed, widened his eyes, "Well, I didn't know we had to pack. _So..._ "

"Someone wasn't being a good roommate," Boomer sang, flickering his eyes mischievously at Butch.

Butch snorted, "You have the _wrong_ person."

"What?" Boomer raised an eyebrow, scratching his head in confusion.

Brick jumped to his feet, motioning for Boomer to leave their room, "Why don't you save us a spot while Butch and I finish packing?"

"Alright," Boomer grinned, forgetting about whatever else occurred.

Once Boomer exited the room, Brick shut the door slowly. He took in a deep breath, grabbing his backpack and dumping the content on his bed in order to pack his stuff.

"Hey. We're cool, right?" Brick questioned, shoving a change of clothes in his bag, his back towards Butch, staring at the wall in front of him.

Butch, who was crouching down to find his sleeping bag in their messy shared closet, rolled his eyes. "Yeah, of course," Butch replied, faking a sense of peppiness.

"You sure?"

"Yes." Butch raised an eyebrow even though Brick could not notice. "Why would anything be wrong between us?" Butch chuckled darkly.

"You're right," Brick responded, grabbing deodorant from their bathroom. "I was just asking since things have been… kind of tension."

"Tension?" Butch laughed. He grinned at the sight of his sleeping bag at the bottom of the closet, pulling it out of the clutter and tossing it onto his bed. Butch glanced at Brick, his eyes watching his roommate intensely but his smile remained to keep up a front of friendliness. On the inside, there was nothing Butch wanted to do more than bash Brick's skull into the wall but that would ruin his anger management and cause tremendous amounts of consequences. "I think you're imagining things, bro."

"Am I?" Brick questioned, narrowing his eyes at Butch. One minute, he hated Brick, the next, he wanted to be his friend. Brick was starting to think Butch was becoming a bit bipolar.

"Yeah, man," Butch nodded, oozing fake humor and conviction. "I have zero problems with you. _None at all._ "

* * *

As a tradition at Townsville Academy, whenever the girls got together for the Battle of the Sexes weekend, the night before the games, they all would watch a movie together as a bonding experience. Each year, the movie is selected by a random draw of names in a hat of the current senior class girls—seniors in the pool of names were also required to bring a copy of their desired film with them in case they were selected. Voted by her peers, Blossom had the pleasure of selecting a name from the hat provided—it was pink cowboy hat that belonged to Dee Dee.

"And this year's movie is going to be selected by…" Blossom shuffled her hand through the pile of small, folded up papers before selecting one and opening it. Blossom grinned at the sight of the name, announcing enthusiastically, "Buttercup!"

A majority of the girls clapped, excited by the news while the rest also applauded out of fear. Buttercup quickly joined Blossom's side.

"What movie will we be watching tonight, Butters?"

Buttercup smiled wickedly, rubbing her hands together, "I selected for us to watch my personal favorite, "The Boogieman"."

A few gasped at the selection. "The Boogieman" was a classic cult film made in the early 70's, which was so terrifying, it's original run in theaters was cut short because of the psychological damage it was causing to it's audiences. However, ten years later, it was shown in theaters again as an anniversary celebration and gained a large amount of popularity afterward. Even with the technological advances in modern cinema, "The Boogieman" was still considered one of the best and scariest movies ever created.

That was why it was Buttercup's all time favorite movie.

Once Blossom finished setting up the projector and popped in the DVD, a silence fell among the library as the hundred or so female students gave all their attention to the film. Blossom made her way towards the king size air mattress that her, Buttercup, and Bubbles set up to share for the night. She took her place on the right of Buttercup, picking up her phone and smiling at whatever was on her screen.

"You know, Butch has tried to get me to watch this film _so_ many times," Blossom whispered as she furiously texted.

"Apparently Butch only has good taste in two things: women and movies," Buttercup quipped, squinting her eyes. She was slightly becoming annoyed by the brightness of Blossom's phone.

Blossom chuckled in reply, "I only agree with the first part."

"Why?" Buttercup raised an eyebrow, "Is this because he fell asleep during _Casablanca_?"

"Maybe."

"Well, that's because that movie sucks ass."

"No, it doesn't!" Blossom exclaimed, gaining looks from those around them with even some shushing her. Buttercup glared at all them, causing the others to quickly turn around and focus on the movie. "It is a classic piece of cinema history and is the best film ever produced," Blossom whispered harshly.

Buttercup snorted, "Says who?"

"Almost every movie critic."

"Pinky, none of those people are under the age of seventy. Of course, they're going to say that stuffy and dated film is amazing."

"That's is not true," Blossom disagreed. Buttercup raised an eyebrow as a response, causing Blossom to sigh. "Okay… maybe they're a little old, but I have you know, there are people our age who appreciate the beauty of cinema that is _Casablanca_."

"Like who?" Buttercup laughed quietly.

"Brick," Blossom answered quickly, texting rapidly on her phone again.

Buttercup flickered her eyes to Blossom's screen, narrowing them as she read the conversation on the redhead's phone—Blossom was not aware of Buttercup's invasion of privacy. She was texting Brick. More so, it appeared the two were talking shit about those around them. Buttercup rolled her eyes, puffing out hot air.

She was nearly 99% sure Blossom was cheating on Butch. It was disappointing and frustrating for Buttercup to think her best friend was treating her boyfriend like he was so disposable. Butch loved Blossom so much it was sickening and—despite how she felt about him—he was probably the best boyfriend at the Academy besides Boomer. Buttercup could not wrap her mind around how Blossom could not see how unbelievably lucky she was to have Butch as her boyfriend.

That was because he cares about and loves her so much. That was why Blossom was lucky.

It made Buttercup envious of how Butch treated Blossom, given how her relationship with Mitch was going. And now, Blossom was basically throwing it all away for some basic white boy who was too perfect to even be human.

Fuck Brick and his home-wrecking ways. There was nothing more she wanted to do than roundhouse kick him in the nuts or maybe worst. He was fucking with her best friend's head. Plus, he was screwing over his roommate and supposive close friend.

Maybe Brick was not perfect. Maybe he was a selfish piece of shit who did not care about anyone but himself―and probably Blossom. Buttercup rolled her eyes again. She wished he never even enrolled in Townsville Academy. Things would be a lot more simpler.

"He probably only agreed because he wants to get in your pants," Buttercup huffed

Blossom's eyes shot up from her phone, narrowing them at Buttercup, "What?"

"Hey, guys," Bubbles greeted, sitting down on the left of Buttercup, interrupting Buttercup before she replied to Blossom. "The line for the bathroom took way longer than I thought, but at least they changed to foamy soap. Smell my hands, they smell like apricots."

Bubbles shoved her hands in Buttercup and Blossom's faces respectively, waiting eagerly for them to sniff it. Both glanced at each other, raising an eyebrow and awkwardly smelling the blonde's hands.

"Yeah, Bubs," Buttercup responded uncomfortably, "That definitely smells apricoty."

"I know!" Bubble said enthusiastically. She gazed at the projection screen, "So what movie are we watching?"

"The Boogieman," Buttercup smirked.

"Isn't that a scary movie?" Bubbles squeaked.

"Yup."

"Um. I don't—I'm not sure—"

"Oh, quit being a baby, and just watch the movie, Bubs," Buttercup ordered. "Maybe you'll get over your ridiculous fear of them if you do."

"But–But—But—"

"Shut up, blondie!" A voice shouted, which all three knew came from Princess but chose to ignore her. However, Bubbles did do so, gathering her blanket to comfort herself and snuggling with her stuffed octopus to ease her fear. She was going to do this. She was going watch her first scary movie. She was not going to be a baby anymore.

Buttercup grinned when she flickered her eyes to see the blonde actively watching the movie. She then glanced to Blossom, her face falling flat. Of course, Blossom was _still_ on her phone talking to Brick.

"Can you turn down your brightness? It's fucking obnoxious," Buttercup snapped quietly.

Blossom rolled her eyes at the green-eyed girl but did as she was told. She then turned on her side so she would not have to see Buttercup. Lately, Blossom could not stand being around Buttercup sometimes. All Buttercup did now, was accuse her and Brick of adultery in some way. It was pissing Blossom off how much Buttercup has taken interest in their… relationship?

Just because she and Brick were close, did not mean they were having an affair. And maybe Brick might have some feelings for her, but that did not mean they still could not be platonic. So they might have almost kissed a few weeks ago, but ever since then, nothing has happened—and nothing will.

Blossom felt a little twang of sadness in her chest at the thought.

Rejection file. Rejection file. Rejection file, she told herself.

She only wanted Butch. Butch was her boyfriend. She loved him.

So why was she thinking about Brick so much?

* * *

Since the guys got the football field for the night, many brought tents to sleep in, developing a small colorful village of high school boys on the field. For Butch's group, each member had tasks in bringing something for the campout—except for Brick, who was left out of the memo. Boomer was in charge of snacks; Ace with alcohol; Butch had the tent, and Mitch brought a fire pit—which he stole from a nearby _Walmart_.

After pitching up the tent, the guys surrounded the fire pit. Butch and Ace were individually on their fourth bottle of beer, while Brick, Mitch, and Boomer only had one. Mitch, Butch, and Ace crowded on the one side of the pit, while Brick and Boomer were on the other side.

Brick was continuous rolling his eyes at the conversation the trio were having. Ace apparently was hooking up with a girl in the theatre club and he was going into heavy detail on all aspects of their "relationship".

"I'm telling you, man. Theatre girls? The biggest freaks you'll ever meet," Ace boasted, earning hearty laughs from Butch and Mitch.

Brick shook his head in disdain, feeling slightly embarrassed for the poor girl. Who the fuck would ever think it was a good idea to fuck around with Ace?

Well, there was Buttercup, so he cannot make a huge deal out it.

He flickered his eyes to his phone as the screen lit up. It was another text from Blossom. They were updating each other of how their separate nights were going. The girls were apparently watching "The Boogieman" and Blossom was not exactly thrilled, given the two paragraphs she wrote criticizing the film. Brick chuckled to himself, typing out his agreement with her.

"Can I ask you guys something?" Mitch said to Butch and Ace after Ace finished his story, taking a sip of his beer. Both nodded. "What do you thinking of Robin?"

"Who the fuck is Robin?" Ace questioned in a confused tone, blinking slowly at the brunet.

"The Jewish chick with the bangs and a slight mustache," Butch leaned over, speaking lowly—or so he thought, as Mitch and Brick both heard him. Ace slowly nodded his head, recalling who it was.

"Hey! It just a little peach fuzz," Mitch defended, while Brick put his phone in his jacket pocket in order to listen attentively to the conversation. Why would Mitch be asking about Robin when he was with Buttercup? Brick simply smirked, knowing exactly what the brunet was up to.

"I've never paid any attention to her," Ace confessed. "She's never caught my eye."

"That's because she's boring as fuck," Butch responded. "She has no personality, which is why she desperately wants to be Blossom."

"Oh…" Mitch mumbled half-heartedly.

"Why are you asking?" Butch questioned, grabbing another beer from the cooler they brought.

"She's, um," Mitch coughed, becoming extremely flushed. "She keeps bothering me lately. I think she wants some of the Mitch."

Butch and Ace laughed, while Brick raised an eyebrow at the obvious lie. He pulled out his phone again, getting ready to inform Blossom about Mitch's question.

"Hey, Brick. Can you help me make a s'more?" Boomer asked, sticking a skewer through a graham cracker, resulting in the crumbles of the broken cracker to fly everywhere.

"Yeah," Brick sighed, putting his phone down and grabbing a skewer. He placed a marshmallow on top as Boomer observed him, licking the graham cracker dust off of his hands.

"So you're supposed to stick it through a marshmallow?" Boomer inquired.

"Yeah," Brick nodded, slightly irritated. How could Boomer be 17 and not know how to make a s'more, was beyond him. Did they not make them in Hawaii or something, he wondered. "And then you let—" Brick paused, listening to Butch's conversation.

"Let me tell you about what Blossom did the other day," Butch gloated, slurring his words a little, gaining an eye roll from Ace who still listened attentively. "I'm in the middle of my biology class last week and she decides to send me this _oh so delicious_ picture of herself. So of course, I get ridiculous hard and ask to use the bathroom. I leave the room and she's fucking out in the hallway waiting for me. We go to the janitor's closet and she _fucking_ blows me right then and there."

"Holy shit!" Mitch gasped. "This was Blossom? Prim and proper Blossom? "

Butch nodded smugly, "She's not _so_ prim and proper, my friend."

"I always knew she was a fucking slut," Ace chuckled. Brick tightened his grip on the wooden skewer, glaring at his lanky classmate. He waited expectantly for Butch's explosion of outrage, somewhat glad his roommate had anger issues.

"Oh, she definitely is," Butch grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. "You should hear some of the things she whispers in my ear. There was this one time—"

"Um, Brick? Are you supposed to get the marshmallow burnt to make a s'more?" Boomer questioned, gaining Brick's attention back. He glanced at the marshmallow, which was now pitch black and slowly oozing off the stick.

Brick shook his head, exhaling deeply, and putting the skewer down. "No. I'll make you a new one. Just give me a second."

Brick stood to his feet, walking over to the other side of the pit, standing in front of Butch. Butch stopped mid-sentence, narrowing his eyes at the redhead who was overcasting him. The light of the fire was hitting Brick's back, cascading a shadow around the two, with Brick's crimson eyes glowing in anger.

"Yes?"

"You need to stop speaking about Blossom like that," Brick asserted. "It's fucking disrespectful."

Butch rolled his eyes, "Disrespectful? It's just fucking guy talk," he slurred again.

"Ace just called her a slut! He just called your fucking girlfriend a slut!" Brick argued, gesturing to Ace.

"Get your fucking hand out of my face," Ace seethed, pushing Brick's hand out the way.

"Chill out bro," Mitch advised. "It's not that big of a deal."

"What the fuck, bro?" Brick disagreed. "You can't even fucking talk, Mitch. You're in a relationship and yet you're asking—"

"Brick. Sit your fucking ass down and shut the fuck up!" Butch spat, rising to his feet. They stood with just a few inches between them, glaring at each other.

"I'm not going to shut up when your "friend" is calling Blossom a fucking slut. Are you so fucking drunk to not realize what the fuck is going on, Butch?"

Butch snorted, "Oh. I know what's fucking going on." Butch pushed Brick's chest, making the redhead take a few steps back from the group. "You want to fuck my girlfriend," he whispered harshly.

"What? Butch—"

"Maybe that's why you're so fucking agitated," Butch smirked, pushing Brick again. "You don't want to hear about us having sex. You don't want to hear how she doesn't want you and fucking boring ass."

Brick cocked an eyebrow, straightening out his jacket, "Butch. I'm your friend and roommate. I would never want to fuck around with your girlfriend," Brick responded lowly. "I think you've had too much to fucking drink. You're starting to fucking imagine things."

"Am I _Carrot Top_? Or am I exactly spot on?" Butch seethed.

"I'm your friend, Butch. I wouldn't fucking do that to you," Brick defended. "And you know what? I don't need to fucking deal with your paranoid ass. I'm going back to the dorms," Brick announced, grabbing his backpack and walking away from the field.

Butch rolled his eyes, "Fucking coward," he mumbled.

"What was that about?" Ace questioned curiously. He could not quite make out what the two said as they spoke lowly throughout most of it except for when they were cursing.

"He's... he's really into feminism," Butch lied, sitting back down. "Can't stand slut-shaming."

"What a fucking pussy," Ace commented, taking a sip of his beer.

A silence fell among the group as the tension from the fight still lingered on. Deep in thought, Mitch was still processing how the guys reacted about Robin being brought up. Ace was trying to piece together if the fight between Brick and Butch was truly about feminist ideals. Butch replayed the fight in his mind over and over again, trying to see if he was in the wrong or not and whether this counted as a setback in his anger management. And Boomer still could not figure out how to make a s'more.

"Um… Can someone show me how to make a s'more?" Boomer asked, smiling sheepishly

* * *

"Buttercup… Pssh. Buttercup," Blossom whispered into the dark-haired girl's ear, gently shaking her shoulder to wake her up.

"Remove your hand or your dead," Buttercup warned, keeping her eyes closed. Blossom did so as she turned away from Blossom.

"Buttercup, please wake up. I need to talk to you," Blossom pleaded.

Buttercup sighed, opening her eyes and glaring at the redhead. "If I have to be awake, you need to wake up Bubs too."

"I'm already awake," the blonde said quietly, turning her body over. "I couldn't sleep because of the movie."

"God, you're such a baby."

"Am not."

"Really? It's just 70's movie makeup and special effects. Get over it."

"It's not just—"

"Can you two stop arguing?" Blossom whispered harshly, acting like a mother with two feuding children. "I really need your help."

Buttercup rolled her eyes, while Bubbles pouted as a response.

"Okay. What is it, Pinky?"

"Oh. We're not talking in here," Blossom announced quietly, flicking her eyes to the group sleeping next to Bubbles. One of the girls quickly shot her head down, pretending to be asleep.

"That serious, huh?" Buttercup chuckled, grabbing the blanket she brought and wrapping it around her skinny body as the trio exited the library and into the coolness of the late November night.

"Maybe…"

The three decided to head for their regular picnic table to discuss Blossom's pressing matter. With Bubbles and Buttercup on one side of the table, the two stared at Blossom, eagerly waiting for why she has them up at 3 o'clock in the morning.

Blossom exhaled deeply, down-casting her eyes, "I think… it's quite possible… I might—"

"Spit it out, Blossom."

"Fine," Blossom exasperated and then sighed. "I think I might be catching feelings for Brick."

Bubbles gasped at the revelation.

"You're _just_ now realizing this?" Buttercup questioned flatly, not impressed or shocked.

Blossom raised an eyebrow. "I know you've had your suspicions—"

"No," Buttercup shook her head. "It wasn't suspicions, Pinky. It was actual knowledge that I've had since the third week of school."

"How? He wasn't even a thought then."

"Um. You don't just let any random guy into our dorm room," Buttercup responded flatly. "Plus, there was one day, in the first two or three weeks, where you wouldn't shut up about him because of some stupid shit that happened in Chemistry."

Blossom laughed at the memory. Brick had created a rap for remembering the periodic table and it was probably the whitest thing Blossom had ever seen. Of course, the girls in the class were swooning over him, calling him the next _Eminem_ or _G-Eazy_. Blossom's face fell as she started to realize how threatened she felt when the other girls started praising him and how happy she was when Brick did not pay attention to anyone but her afterward.

"Oh my god!" Blossom exclaimed, covering her face. "I've liked him for that long?"

"So you _are_ just now realizing it," Buttercup said, coming out more like a question.

"But what about Butch?" Bubbles questioned. She was genuinely surprised about Blossom's feelings for Brick. After the fight Buttercup and Blossom had the week before about the subject, Bubbles did not think much of it. It might have been because of her severe exhaustion which made her not able to process the conversation or maybe it was because Bubbles never saw it coming. "Do you still love him?"

"Of course I do" Blossom answered, uncovering her face. "I actually think I've never loved him more than I love him right now."

"Well. This is one fucked situation, ain't it?" Buttercup quipped.

Blossom glared at the green-eyed girl as Bubbles spoke, "Then what are you going to do?"

"I don't know—"

"I know—"

"I'm not doing that, Buttercup," Blossom warned. Buttercup rolled her eyes, slumping her shoulders.

"Ooo, I know," Bubbles clapped. Buttercup cringed a little at the loud noise. "We can compare the two and see which one is best for you."

"Why would I need to do that? I love Butch," Blossom pointed out. "I only like Brick."

"If you love Butch so much, then why are you developing feelings for someone else?" Bubbles acknowledged.

"Well damn, Bubs."

"Good point," Blossom agreed dishearteningly. "I guess we can do that then."

"Yay!"

"Bubs, I'm going to need you to tone it down a few notches."

"Fine, Buttercup," Bubbles said quietly. "Let's see. Who do you think is more attractive?"

"I don't know," Blossom shrugged. "They're both very attractive."

"Really? I think Brick is more appealing," Bubbles revealed. "I mean, if I wasn't with Boomy, I wouldn't mind having those muscular arms wrapped around me."

"TMI, Bubbles. TMI," Buttercup cringed.

"I agree."

"And you're wrong. Butch is more attractive," Buttercup said matter-factually. Bubbles and Blossom both raised an eyebrow. Buttercup shrugged her shoulders, "As a POC, I find other POC more attractive. Plus, Brick is more white and bland looking than a bag of wonder-bread." Buttercup grinned to herself, "Huh. I might just start calling him wonder-bread now."

"Please don't."

"Try and stop me, Pinky."

"Well, if you can't decide on appearance, what about things you like about them? How about Butch?"

Blossom tapped her chin in thought. "Let's see. Butch and I are complete opposites. I'm neat and organized, he's a mess. I'm motivated, he heavily procrastinates. I'm reserved, he's loud and explosive."

"Thanks for reminding me of how many similarities I have with him," Buttercup said under her breath, which no one caught.

"But I actually like that we're different. It keeps things interesting and we rub off on another one."

"What about all the fighting?"

Blossom sighed. "I mean, we haven't fought in a while and we're working on it, so it's not entirely a problem, but I get what you mean. The fighting can be not healthy from time to time."

"Anything else?"

"I like all the history we have with each other. We've practically grown up with each other in the past four years. I've seen the best and worst out of him—and the same goes for him with me. I just like how we can stand by each other and still appreciate one another after all this time."

"That's what love is about," Bubbles sighed lovingly, thinking of Boomer.

Buttercup snorted at the two, "You're both the biggest sappiest I've ever met."

"You'll understand what we mean soon enough," Bubbles responded, patting Buttercup's shoulder. "You'll see once you fall in love."

" _Right_. Like that's ever going to happen."

"What about Mitch?"

"Um…" Buttercup coughed, signaling for Blossom to change the subject.

"Let's talk about Brick now," Blossom announced, with Buttercup mouthing "thank you" to her.

"Alright. What do you like about Brick?"

Blossom glanced around the poorly lit courtyard, mulling over the question. She could not believe she was verbally speaking about another guy who was not Butch. Did this count as cheating? Blossom was not entirely sure but if it counted, she did not feel like it did.

"I like how approachable he is. I can literally talk to him about anything for hours, and sometimes, I feel like he gets me better than anyone else."

"Wow. That's hurts," Buttercup quipped, placing her hand over her heart as if she got wounded.

Blossom rolled her eyes, chuckling a little. "Anyways, I've told him things that I haven't even told Butch yet—and then there's the fact that he's _so_ goal-orientated and determined in life, which is extremely attractive to me. He's just really comfortable to be around. Like, I don't feel like I have to fake who I am around him," Blossom confessed, talking more towards Buttercup as she understood what Blossom really meant.

"Anything bad about him?"

"Oh. Where do I begin?" Buttercup quipped with a mischievous smirk.

Blossom rolled her eyes, continuing, "Um… Perhaps the fact I've only known him for about three months. There's still so much I really don't know about him. And then, I don't know if I want to ruin our friendship. With Butch, we weren't ever friends before we dated because he only began talking to me with the intentions to date me, not to form a friendship. But with Brick, we actually became friends first. Maybe we had feelings for each other the whole time, but I don't think we realized it until we became extremely close."

Bubbles nodded, understanding her dilemma. She felt the exact same way when she and Boomer first started dating.

"Fuck, Pinky. You're really fucked."

"I know," Blossom exasperated.

"I think the only thing Butch has over Brick is the intimate connection you have with him," Bubbles said. "Other than that, they seem to be on an equal playing field."

"That is true."

"Maybe you just need to fuck Brick's pasty ass," Buttercup quipped, chuckling darkly as Blossom's face became a deep shade of red.

"Buttercup!"

"What, Bubs? I was just joking."

"Are you really?" Bubbles questioned, narrowing her eyes at the dark-haired girl.

"Yes," Buttercup responded. "I don't want Blossom fucking cheating on Butch. He deserves better than that."

"He does?" Blossom cocked an eyebrow, interested by Buttercup defending Butch.

"No one deserves to be cheated on," Buttercup muttered, rolling her eyes.

Blossom nodded slowly. "I don't know what to do. All of this is messing with my head and lately I can't sleep properly, and I think I'm causing Butch to hate Brick now."

"Wait. Butch knows?" Bubbles questioned.

"I think so. I don't know how but I think he does."

"That's strange," Buttercup coughed, feeling a little bit guilty.

"Yeah," Blossom sighed. "And then I feel guilty because Brick has basically told me that he feelings for me, and here I am giving him hope―"

"You're not giving him hope when you just said you having feelings for him. You're just making yourself and him more confused," Buttercup pointed out.

"Maybe… What do you guys think I should do?"

"I think you should stay with Butch," Bubbles revealed. "It's hard to find the type of love you have with each other. It's like a once in a lifetime thing. So maybe you developed feelings for someone else? You're not cheating on Butch by finding someone else cute. And maybe you're just infatuated with Brick. Your crush will probably fade in a couple weeks and we'll forget all about this."

Buttercup rolled her eyes at the blonde's response.

"What about you, Butters?"

"Break up with Butch," she said bluntly. "Like I said before, he doesn't deserve to be cheated on. You're not doing it physical—you better not be doing it physically, Pinky—but you are already cheating on him emotionally. And if you ask me, you're already intimate with Brick if you're telling him private things you've never told Butch. You need to end things with Butch before things get too far and he's left with a broken heart because I know that's the last thing you want to do."

"True—"

"I also think, if you break up with Butch, to stay the fuck away from Brick. You need time to be single and understand yourself more. You've always been caught up with some sort of guy; plus you'll be coming out of an almost two-year relationship. And you can do so much better than fucking Brick."

Blossom narrowed her eyes at Buttercup, having lost the appeal in what the green-eyed girl was saying once she said Blossom needed to understand herself more. She was fully aware of who she was, Buttercup had no right to say something so untrue.

"Well, I have a lot of thinking to do," Blossom announced after a period of silence among the trio. "But I really just want to get some sleep before the games tomorrow," she said to end the conversation. Blossom had enough of being open with the two, feeling too exposed from their talk.

"I couldn't agree more," Buttercup reasoned, quickly standing up.

Blossom and Bubbles laughed, following Buttercup's action.

"Hey. Can you promise not to say anything about this?" Blossom asked as the three headed back to the library. "Especially towards your significant others," she hinted, staring directly at Bubbles.

"I promise," the blonde squealed.

"And you, Buttercup?"

"Of course, Pinky," Buttercup smirked.

* * *

With the sun glaring down, making the temperature feel over 90 degrees despite it almost being December, twenty students of Townsville Academy took their place. A long, thick rope laid on the ground with a red flag tied in the middle. Ten girls took the left side of the rope with Buttercup leading at the front. The other side consisted of ten guys, including Brick and Butch. Butch was chosen to be the anchor, standing at the back, and Brick was located in the middle of the group. Those who were not participating, eagerly watched, surrounding in a large circle around them.

As Class President, Blossom had the honor of using the starter pistol to initiated the event. The participants grabbed the rope, lifting it off the ground when Blossom took her position. Looking at both teams to check if they were ready, Blossom raised an arm and pulled the trigger.

Loud cheering consumed the field while the twenty individuals pulled on the rope as hard as they could. The rope began to inch towards the guys' side due to having more brawn but the girls were not giving up. After a minute long stalemate, the guys started digging the heels of their feet into the ground, burning all of their arm muscles to tug with more power. The event was finished when the girls' anchor released the rope and a majority of other girls began to trip over each other, resulting in a guys' victory.

The guys huddled around each other, celebrating for getting the first win of the day. Most of the girls were ashamed of the lost, downcasting their eyes while some were examining their hands for rope burns.

"Good try," Blossom said, lending out her hand to help Buttercup up as she was one of the many casualties of the tripping.

"Not good enough," Buttercup huffed, taking Blossom's hand and standing up. She rubbed her hands down her track pants, easing the burning feeling on her hands and removing the dirt she acquired from the ground.

"We'll get them back at the obstacle course."

Buttercup smirked, knowing of the advantage the girls had during the event. Due to their lighter weight and slimmer physique, it was easier for the females to manage the inflated course than the males who usually sunk when trying to get through it.

For this event, the girls chose five of slimmest in the group to represent them, including Blossom and Buttercup. The guys followed the same strategy, having learned from the past couple of years. This was the only time the guys would ever willingly have Dexter participate in anything athletic related. The short ginger was joined by Boomer and Ace in this event. Like the tug-a-war event, those who did not participate had surrounded the inflated course, cheering on their teams as they began running the course.

In the crowd, Butch made an effort to find Brick. Searching for his red hat, he grinned when he spotted the redhead in the crowd, walking over to him. Brick was consumed with the event, watching intensely as the inflatable course was shaking from the movement within it. Butch grabbed his shoulder, turning Brick around. Brick raised an eyebrow, not knowing who grabbed him but once he saw it was Butch, he narrowed his eyes and turned back around.

"Can we talk?" Butch responded, grabbing Brick's shoulder again.

Brick rolled his eyes, removing Butch's hand from his shoulder and facing him. "Whatever you want."

"Fine. I want to apologize for last night."

"Okay."

"I was out of line," Butch said sheepishly but he did mean it. He was accusing Brick of being a homewrecker based on rumors. Sure, there was the moments where Butch was baiting him but Brick probably responded that way because of how shady Butch was acting during those times. Butch knew if he was in a similar situation, he would response the same way. It was clear to Butch that Brick cared a lot about Blossom but deep down, Butch trusted and believed it was only in a platonic way. "And quite frankly, I was pretty drunk—but that's not an excuse."

"That's great," Brick said flatly. He did not care about Butch apologizing to him. Brick was more concern about Butch being alright with his girlfriend being called a slut.

"And I should have punched Ace for what he said. Like I said, I was pretty drunk and wasn't fully aware of anything going on."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Well. I was aware of how angry I was at you."

"What the fuck did I do?" Brick responded, faking his outrage. He knew exactly why Butch was pissed, and Butch had every reason to be. It did not mean Brick wanted to be on the responding end of Butch's rage.

"I know, I know," Butch said calmly. "I been hearing a couple of rumors lately and I let it get to me. I shouldn't have accused you of anything without asking you first."

Brick nodded, narrowing his eyes, "Definitely shouldn't have."

"Can you forgive me, man? I know I've been shitty towards you lately, and I'm sorry. You don't deserve it."

Brick exhaled loudly, noticing the obstacle course event was about to end as the last runners for each team were halfway through. "Yeah. We're cool."

Butch grinned widely, "Great… but I do want to make sure everything is a rumor... It is a rumor, right?" Butch questioned to reassure his belief, raising an eyebrow.

Brick nodded, "I would never disrespect you like that, Butch. Blossom and I are just friends, and she's incredibly crazy about you."

"Yeah. She is, isn't she?" Butch smiled lovingly.

"Yup," Brick muttered, focusing his attention at the event. He was just glad to get the discourse between the two of them over with. Also to end Butch's notions of him and Blossom.

The obstacle race seemed to be an even draw, but the girls came out victorious by a one-second difference, with tension grew along the field as the score became tied. It remained that way when they moved onto more events. The girl went on to win the egg toss and scavenger hunt, while guys were triumphant in the dodgeball game and the water balloon fight. There was only one event left to determine the winner of the weekend—capture the flag.

In this event, only five individuals from each team were allowed to participate in the event. For the girls, Bubbles, Buttercup, Blossom, Dee Dee, and Princess were the ones picked to represent the team, and the guys chosen were Butch, Brick, Boomer, Mitch, and Ace. The rest of their classmates were sent to the gym, left in suspense and waiting in anticipation for the winning team to arrive with a flag in hand. With the ability to use the entire external parts of the campus, the teams went into separate directions, deciding a base for their flag.

The girls selected a heavily wooded area close to the Culinary building. They wrapped their flag around an extremely high tree branch—Dee Dee being 6 feet was a huge advantage for them.

"Who's going to watch the flag?" Bubbles questioned once Dee Dee made sure the flag was secure.

"I will," Blossom and Princess both announced simultaneously, glaring at each other.

"Blossom will do it," Buttercup determined, not putting much thought into the decision.

"Why not me?" Princess whined.

"Because you get bored easily and will let any of the guys take it just so it will end," Buttercup said flatly.

"You do make a good point."

"I know." Buttercup rolled her eyes. "Anyways, Princess and I will search the northern parts of the campus while Bubbles and Dee Dee will get the southern areas. Any questions?"

"Yeah," Dee Dee raised her hand. Buttercup nodded, signaling for her to continue. "What direction is South?"

The group collectively sighed, while Dee Dee waited for an answer. Bubbles patted Dee Dee's shoulder, "I'll handle that."

"Alrighty."

"Are we good now?" Buttercup asked. The others nodded. Buttercup grinned, rubbing her hands together, "Now let's go kick some ass."

* * *

On the other side of the campus, the guys found the center of the fountain in the courtyard to be the best location. Despite resistance from Mitch and Ace about the area being too exposed, Brick explained why it was the most logical choice. It was too obvious for the girls to even think about it. Plus it was so exposed, they would be about to spot the girls easily if they do find them. Furthermore, it will be difficult for the girls to beat one of them to the flag because the water will slow the girls down if they even attempt to grab the flag.

Needlessly to say, Mitch and Ace did not have much to complain about afterward. Ace also gained a small amount of respect for Brick.

"I think it's best if we have three of us guarding the flag and two of us go searching."

"Isn't that a little overkill?" Butch questioned the redhead.

Brick shook his head, "I'm pretty sure the girls only have one person guarding the flag, so it will be easy to get it from them if we're going one-on-one. If we have three people—including the advantages we already have—there's no way they can take it from us."

"Holy fuck," Ace whispered. "You're right."

"I know," Brick grinned.

"Who's staying then?" Mitch asked.

"I think me, Boomer, and Butch should," Ace responded.

"I'm not staying," Butch challenged.

"I think Brick should go, he's a faster and a more skilled runner," Mitch chimed, remembering the past Friday nights he spent watching Brick burning defenders. His abilities would come in handy if any of the girls decided to chase him.

"I agree," Boomer added.

"Butch. We need your muscle power if one of the girls come. Especially if it's Buttercup," Ace explained. "Don't you want to beat her?"

Butch mulled it over, not wanting to hear the green-eyed girl brag about winning four years in a row. He would love to wipe any victorious smile off of her face and see her in defeat for once. "... Yeah. You're right. I'll stay."

"Great. Mitch and Brick will search for the flag. Mitch will get the east side of the campus, Brick will get the west side."

"Sounds good," Boomer replied as the air horn sounded in the distance.

"Let's do this motherfuckers," Butch exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. Brick and Mitch nodded, heading off in their separate directions.

As Brick searched around the outskirts of the courtyard, he began to ponder over where exactly the girls would choose to hide their flag. If he was in their group, Brick was pretty sure they would chose Blossom to determine the location of the flag, given the trust they had in her intellect.

Now knowing who Blossom was, she most likely used the strategy of hiding the flag somewhere that was obvious but well hidden. Brick thought of the few places that were easy to guess but also was concealed. There was either the garden by the Agricultural building or the wooded area by the Culinary building.

Since the agricultural building was on Mitch's territory to search, Brick restored to the location by the Culinary building.

Tip-toeing around the area in order to avoid making any sound from breaking twigs that laid on the ground, Brick darted his eyes back and forth for any sight of the girls. His eyes widened when Brick saw a flash of orange, crouching down in a nearby bush to confirm what he saw was true. He grinned cockily, seeing Blossom leaning against a tree, staring at her nails and the red-colored cloth hanging above her head—the girls must have figured the height would be an advantage but for Brick, he would only need to lift his arm and tug on the end of the flag to receive it.

He waited, strategizing the way he will get her attention off guarding the flag for the short span of time he needed to grab the flag. Brick rubbed his chin in thought; however, he lost his balance, using his hand to support himself from falling. Unfortunately, he slammed his hand into the ground while doing so, snapping a few twigs in the process, making a noticeable sound.

"I can hear you," Blossom said, glancing around. "I know you're there, so you might as well come out now." Brick sighed, standing up and revealing himself behind the greenery. He held his hands up like he had got caught by the cops and had a sheepish grin on his face. Blossom smiled at the sight of him, raising an eyebrow and placing her hands on her hips, "I thought you were staying away from me."

"Hard to do when your team nominates you to find the flag," Brick responded, taking a few steps closer to her. There were at least five feet between them.

" _How flattering_."

"If it helps, I was starting to miss you," Brick quipped.

Blossom rolled her eyes playfully, "You're not getting the flag, Brick."

"Gosh darn it." Brick snapped his fingers, "I surely thought that would have worked."

Blossom chuckled, wiping the sweat off of her forehead. "You might as well give up and wait here until the girls retrieve your flag. That's the only way this will end."

"Cocky much?"

"No," Blossom shrugged. "I just always win. That's all."

"I don't think you will this year," Brick challenged lowly, taking a step closer to her.

" _Oh really_?" Blossom whispered, moving a foot closer to him. "How can you be so sure?"

"I just know." A step closer.

"I think you're wrong." Another foot forward.

Only a foot was between the two. Both staring intensely at each other, Brick looked down at the redhead girl. Blossom had her arms crossed and eyebrows raised. All Brick could do was simply smirk at her.

"It wouldn't be the first time."

"Oh, I know," Blossom grinned, placing a hand on his forearm, rubbing her thumb up and down the grove of his muscle. The two smiled at each other in silence, enjoying the moment. Then the realization of what was happening hit them both, darting their eyes to Blossom's hand. Wiping the grins off of their faces, they took a step back from each other.

Blossom kicked the dirt, only being able to stare at the ground as her face turned a shade of red. Brick began whistling, rubbing his neck. Blossom was now wishing Brick did stay away from her all weekend. It would not have put her in this situation where she had to be alone with him. In a private and secluded area. It was a recipe for disaster.

"So, um," Brick coughed. "How was your night?"

"We watched the movie and that's really it," Blossom shrugged, not even daring to tell him about the conversation she had with Buttercup and Bubbles. "Pretty uneventful. What about you? You stopped texting me out of nowhere."

"Oh. Right," Brick recalled. "That's because I, um, sort of got into it with Butch."

"You what? What happened?"

Brick's eyes flashed a sense of mischievousness for a split second. He knew Blossom would just love to hear about what her boyfriend did last night—or did not do. Brick wanted to grin wickedly at the thought of Blossom's outrage over Butch's behavior and the results it could cause but he had to hold it back. He did not want Blossom to see how he was somewhat manipulating the situation.

"Ace was saying something I _really_ didn't agree with and Butch did nothing to stop it."

"What did Ace say? Was it about anyone?" Brick nodded. "Who?"

"You."

Blossom narrowed her eyes, forming a fist as she tried to think of all the things Ace could have said about her. "What did he say, Brick?" Blossom asked firmly through her teeth.

"Ace said you were a slut—"

"And Butch did nothing about it?"

"He actually agreed with it."

"Are you kidd—"

"But he was drunk," Brick pointed out to make it seem like he was giving his friend the benefit of the doubt.

"I'm going to freaking kill him," Blossom seethed, turning her back towards Brick, and pacing back and forward.

"Who exactly?" Brick questioned, his eyes flickering over to the flag. Sure, it was fucked up for him to take it when Blossom was in a distressed state but she was not the only one who was ruthlessly competitive. Brick would do anything to win—which is why he told Blossom about Butch's behavior the night before. He was going to win Blossom over, no matter the cost.

"Ace—No. Butch—Wait. Both," Blossom decided, continuing to walk back and forward, not noticing Brick was now standing under the branch that had the flag wrapped around it. "I'm going wrap Ace's lifeless, limp body around Butch's neck like a scarf and suffocate him."

Brick's eyes widened at Blossom's plan. "Don't you think that's a bit extreme?"

Blossom huffed, crossing her arms, "...No."

"Bloss…"

"Fine…" Blossom exhaled heavily. "I'm being over-dramatic."

"Just a bit."

"But that doesn't mean I'm not going to destroy Ace's slimy self," Blossom asserted.

"I don't blame you," Brick replied, quickly tucking the red flag under the waistband of his basketball shorts.

"Thanks," she smiled softly, stopping her pacing, and facing Brick now. Her face quickly changed, her eyes narrowing at him. She furiously stomping over to him, poking his chest. "And what exactly did you do about what Ace said? Huh? Did you agree with him?"

"Bloss, I told you, I disagreed with it," Brick reminded, growing irritated by her chest poking.

"Are you sure? Or are you saying that just so—"

"Blossom." Brick said firmly over her, catching her poking finger and wrapping his hand around it. Blossom froze at the loudness of his voice, staring wide-eyed at him. "I would never be okay with someone calling you a slut, alright? I was so close to beating the shit out of Ace and Butch last night. And you can believe me or not but it doesn't change the fact of how highly I think of you."

Blossom inhaled deeply, nodding her head. "... Sorry."

"It's fine."

"... And thanks," she said lowly. "For having my back."

" _Always_ ," Brick smiled with Blossom sharing the same expression. This worked out a lot better than he planned.

"Um. Brick?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you let go of my finger now?"

"Oh yeah," Brick said sheepishly, releasing her finger. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Blossom said quietly, feeling a little heat rise in her cheeks. Damn. She really did have feelings for him, and now that she knew, it was hard for her to not be bashful around him with things like this.

Brick nodded, looking around the area. "I think I'm going to continue "searching for the flag". Just in case the guys go rogue and don't see me around."

Blossom nodded along with him, "Yeah. I think that's a good idea."

"Great."

" _Great_."

"Well, I'll see you around," Brick waved, taking subtle steps back. As soon as he was out of sight, Brick was going to take his sweet time towards the fountain―he wanted to relish in the easy victory.

"You mean after the girls are announced the winners, right?" Blossom grinned.

" _Right_ ," Brick chuckled, disappearing into the greenery once again.

Blossom smiled in satisfaction. The girls were going to win again, and she could not be happier. She looked up at the tall branch, preparing ways for her to gloat later. Raising an eyebrow, she began blinking rapidly, not believing the sight above her.

The branch was naked. The flag was gone. But how?

Her mind quickly flashed back to when she had her back turned to Brick.

"Dammit!" Blossom exasperated. The one time she let her guard down, and Blossom could not even be pissed at herself because she had a valid reason for what she did. However, Brick did use her emotions against her. A strategy which has never been used on her before by her classmates. She was sure he did not mean for it to happen that way, considering how sincere he was when she accused him of the topic but she was sure he saw the golden opportunity and did not dare to pass it up.

A sly grin slowly crept on her face at the thought of Brick outwitting her. She was impressed with his quick thinking and callous action because it was exactly how she would have done it if she was on the opposite end of the scenario. And because of that, she decided not to chase after him. He won fair and square in her books.

It also made Brick more attractive to her.

* * *

"I can't fucking believe this," Buttercup groaned, walking along the outskirts of the main section of the school. "We've searched everywhere."

"I know. My feet are killing me," Princess whined.

"What the hell do you expect when you wear heels for an outdoors event?"

"Hey. These barely qualify as heels. Their only two inches high," Princess countered. "But I guess you wouldn't understand because since you're so butch."

"Geez. I'm really _loving_ this partnership we got going on here," Buttercup quipped, rolling her eyes at the redhead.

"Whatever." Princess flipped her hair in response, smacking some of her curls into Buttercup's face. Buttercup stuck out her tongue, trying to get a strand of red hair out of her mouth. "Can we at least get something to drink? I'm haven't had my late mid-afternoon coffee."

"Wow," Buttercup replied, finally getting all the hair out of her mouth. "Can you _be_ anymore ridiculous?"

"No," Princess said firmly.

Buttercup blinked in response, not expecting for Princess to agree with her. "Um…" she exhaled loudly, "I guess we can stop searching and get a soda."

"I am not drinking soda. I'm on a diet—"

"It's either that or water for a thirty-year-old water fountain," Buttercup challenged.

"Soda sounds lovely," Princess responded quickly, changing her tune.

"Great," Buttercup deadpanned. "We're about two minutes away from the courtyard anyways."

The two made towards the area where they usually occupied during lunch. Buttercup kept a straight face while Princess continued to complain about her feet hurting until they reached their destination. Upon turning the corner to enter the courtyard, Buttercup led the way. She blinked at the view she had, taking a step back and pushing Princess back with her.

"What the—"

"Sshhh," Buttercup motioned, covering Princess' mouth. "The guys are over there," she revealed, speaking lowly.

Princess pushed Buttercup's hand away. "What do you mean?" Princess exclaimed, resulting in Buttercup to cover her mouth again.

"They put their flag on the fountain," Buttercup whispered harshly. Princess began to talk, but it came out as mumbled gibberish because of Buttercup's hand. Buttercup sighed, "You wouldn't talk loudly again?" Princess nodded her head slowly. "Fine." She removed her hand, letting the redhead speak.

"Why can't we just go get it then?" Princess questioned lowly. "There's two of us."

"Yeah. And three of them," Buttercup pointed out.

"Three? Overkill much," Princess huffed.

"Something tells me this has a lot of Brick's doing," the green-eyed girl thought out loud.

"Well, he is very intelligent," the redhead swooned, fantasizing about their red-eyed classmate.

Buttercup rolled her eyes, "Let's just figure out a plan here." She peeked around the corner, observing who was guarding the fountain. Boomer sat on the corner of the back of the fountain, facing their direction but appeared to not be paying attention. Ace was spread across the opposite side, deep in sleep. Butch stood on the left side, reminding Buttercup of a prison guard. She quickly turned back to Princess, hoping the guys did not see her for the split second she was noticeable as she explained to Princess of their strategy.

However, her hopes were not heard as Boomer raised an eyebrow at the brief appearance of the dark-haired girl's head.

Boomer stood to his feet, facing Butch. "Um, Butch…"

Butch groaned. "For the last time, Boomer. I don't believe in aliens. If they existed, they would have already been here by now."

"That's not what I wanted to say."

"Then what is it?" Butch questioned a little too harshly. He was a bit on edge due to the game lasting long without any sign of ending. Butch wanted to win so badly. He was not going to lose four years in a row. Especially not to―

"I just saw Buttercup over there," Boomer said, pointing in the direction where the green-eyed girl was hiding behind the wall, who had no knowledge of the guys speaking about her presence.

"Holy shit," Butch exclaimed. "Ace—Are you fucking kidding me?" Butch walked furiously over to Ace's side of the fountain, glaring down at the sleeping teenager. "Ace! Wake up!"

Ace did not stir at Butch's attempt of awakening him. Butch cursed silently towards his lanky friend. Frustrated by Ace's unreliability, Butch decided to push him into the fountain water in order to wake Ace up. Ace instantly wome up when making contact with the icy, cold water, which splashed everywhere, wetting the bottom half of Butch's body. Smacking more water at Butch, Ace glared at his green-eyed friend.

"What the fuck? My phone was my pocket!" Ace shouted, rising to his feet. His entire body was drenched with water.

" _Please_. Your phone contract ended a month ago," Butch pointed out. "It might as well have been dropped in water."

"Yeah buy I had some really _nice_ pictures on there," Ace hissed.

"Just watch porn, bro. It's less creepy."

Ace narrowed his eyes, "I—"

"Um. Guys," Boomer chimed.

"Yeah?"

"What are we going to do about the girls?"

"The girls?" Ace questioned, lowering his glasses to make eye contact with Butch and move the wet strands of his long, dark hair out of his face. "They found us."

"Apparently Buttercup did," Butch grumbled.

Ace chuckled darkly. "I'm sure she's not alone too."

"Yeah. And I think I have a plan, Boom," Butch announced. "You and Ace go over there and stop the girls. I'll stay here and watch for any surprise attacks."

"You sure? I—"

"Just do it!" Butch ordered, glaring at the two. Boomer and Ace glanced at each other, gulping and deciding to follow Butch's instructions to avoid provoking him anymore.

"He's a little touchy," Ace said lowly, heading towards the corner Buttercup and Princess were hiding behind.

"It's this whole weekend. He doesn't want to lose to Bu—"

"Hello, boys," Buttercup purred, grinning wickedly as the guys stop in their tracks at the sight of her and Princess. She nodded to Princess, signaling for the redhead to carry out her part of the strategy. Princess smiled mischievously, grabbing Ace way from Boomer and leading him to a secluded corner. Buttercup knew Ace's kryptonite was females, and thankful, Princess had no problem with manipulating males with her sexuality.

Buttercup took a step forward, staring Boomer down. "Boomer."

"Buttercup," Boomer croaked, swallowing out of nervousness.

"Do you want to make Bubbles cry?"

"What? No. Never—"

"Then if you leave and let me go get the flag, it wouldn't happen."

"But—"

"Do you want a crying girlfriend or not?" Buttercup exclaimed out of frustration. "Because I can easily make her weep like a baby."

"No, I don't—"

"Then why are you still here?"

Boomer blinked in response, considering his options. He leaned forward towards Buttercup, "You wouldn't tell Butch, right?"

Buttercup rolled her eyes, "When do I talk to Butch? Much less, tell him secrets?"

"Sounds good to me," Boomer grinned. "I'm going to go get some ice cream now."

"Oh… okay?" Buttercup replied as Boomer walked away from the courtyard, whistling a chippy tune. She was confused on how he was going to get ice cream when there was nowhere on campus that sold some, but she pushed the fact out of her mind. It was time for her to capture the flag.

Peering around the corner, she took note of Butch focusing on the other direction, presuming Boomer and Ace took care of her. She snorted at his large about of faith in those two morons.

Buttercup knew she could sprint over to the fountain without making a noise. The only problem was getting the flag, which was surrounded by the water. She would have to make a large amount of noise trying to retrieve it. Buttercup exhaled deeply, knowing the only way she could come out victorious is if she took Butch head on. She convinced herself by having the quick agility she possessed over his brute strength, it would all come down to who can be faster. Liking her chances, Buttercup sprinted to the fountain.

Once at the fountain, she quietly dipped her foot into the water. Buttercup cringed when the action produced a faint, rippling noise. Butch quickly turn around, jumping into the fountain as she did the same. The two stood in the water, staring each other down and waiting for one to make a move.

"How did you—"

"I had Princess showed Ace her tits and I threaten to make Bubbles cry if Boomer didn't quit," Buttercup replied nonchalantly, not taking her eyes off of Butch and the blue flag that hung from the fountain.

"Fucking idiots," Butch muttered. "But I am impressed by your tactics."

Buttercup grinned, shrugging her shoulders. "I am surprised to see you here," she said, in attempts to distract him. "You're _always_ desperate to be the one to find the flag. Always want to be the hero."

Butch snorted, "Not my decision."

"Huh. And let me guess, this decision was made in favor of—"

Butch nodded, narrowing his eyes. "It doesn't matter."

"If it keeps on happening. Maybe it does."

"What do you mean?" Butch questioned, easing his stance and getting lost in thought.

Buttercup smirked, seeing the opportunity. She quickly ran to the center of the fountain, reaching for the flag. Butch swiftly snapped out of his thoughts, racing her to the center. Before Buttercup could get her fingers on the blue cloth, Butch tackled her into the water, pinning her arms over her head against the marble tile of the fountain. The two glared at each other, their bodies covered in the cold fountain water as Butch straddled her.

"Butch. Get the fuck off of me," Buttercup threatened, trying to headbutt him but his pin on her was too strong for her to even lift her head. She decided to squirm her body around to loose his grip on her but had no luck.

"No! I'm not losing four years in a row," he whispered harshly. "I'm not losing to you again!"

"I'm not the only one competing, Butch," she exclaimed, her voice cracking a little from the yelling.

"Yeah but you're the only one who matters," Butch shouted hoarsely.

"What?" Buttercup blinked in shock, stopping her body from squirming. Butch did the same, not understanding what he just said and loosened his grip on her but still had her pinned; however, Buttercup did not notice. A few drops of water from Butch's face fell onto Buttercup's, but neither acknowledged it, remaining in silence, with only the rippling from the fountain being heard, as they stared at each other.

"Am I interrupting something?" a voice questioned. Both turned their heads, not changing their position. The two widened their eyes at the sight of Brick, who had an eyebrow raised in question.

"No!" they shouted in unison, turning back at each other for a brief second to glare and then glancing back to Brick.

Brick grinned cockily, "Good." He lifted his shirt, grabbing the red cloth he tucked in his waistband. "Because I brought a little souvenir."

"Fuck yeah!" Butch boasted, freeing Buttercup from his hold, rising to his feet, and pumping his fist in the air. "We're not fucking losers anymore."

"Well, I was never a loser," Brick pointed out. "But that's beside the point."

"It's whatever, man. Go to the gym so everyone else knows we won," Butch advised.

"Got it," Brick replied, running in the direction of the gymnasium. Butch grinned as he watched the redhead grow smaller and smaller with distance. It was not until he heard a sigh did Butch realized Buttercup was still there.

She remained in the water, sitting up and hugging her knees. Appearing deep in thought, Buttercup had a scowl on her face but it was not directed towards anyone or anything in particular as she stared at the liquid that surrounded her.

"Hey," Butch coughed, lending out a hand to help her up.

Buttercup rejected it, pushing his hand away. "I don't need your help."

"Fine," he replied bitterly, crossing his arms.

She stood to her feet, digging her finger into his firm chest, "I'm so hurting your girlfriend for losing this for us."

Butch chuckled in response, "We'll see about that."

* * *

Despite winning MVP for her team—Brick was announced the male one, cue eye roll―Buttercup was not in the mood to celebrate at the banquet dinner to close out the Battle of the Sexes weekend. Maybe she was being a sore loser, but it was one of her goals to win four years in a row. Now her dream was crushed thanks to wonder-bread.

Buttercup grinned to herself. Yeah. She was definitely going to start calling him that.

On the same subject, Buttercup was sure Blossom's crush on the redhead was the leading factor in the demise of their legacy. Even though Blossom thoroughly explained why she let Brick take the flag—Buttercup was planning to punch Ace in the nuts sometime in the next week—Buttercup still believed if Blossom did not have feelings for Brick, she would have never let her guard down like she did.

Buttercup was definitely being a sore loser. And it did not help she had to wear a dress to the banquet. Pulling down on the tight material, feeling it was a little too short due to her long legs giving off such an illusion, Buttercup could not help feeling self-conscious in the black bodycon dress she wore.

"Hey," Butch tapped on her shoulder, coming out of nowhere from the crowd that surrounded her. Buttercup furrowed her eyebrows at him, confused on why he was approaching her. "Woah. You're wearing a dress?" He questioned, looking her up and down in disbelief. He was well aware of the dark-haired girl's displeasure with that type of clothing

Buttercup sighed, "Sadly."

"Why?"

"Bubbles and I made a bet before the games."

"She betted against the girls?" Butch laughed.

"Apparently God came to her in a dream and said we weren't winning—in hindsight, he's a pretty intuitive dude."

"Yeah. He is," Butch grinned. "But it probably didn't help that you had Judas on your team."

"Who? Bubs?" Buttercup asked. "You think she's Judas?"

"I was talking about Princess," he chuckled. "But Bubbles could be Judas too. I mean, she _did_ bet against you—I mean, who bets against you, Buttercup?"

"You," she replied, shifting her weight as Butch's face became less amused. She was beginning to get uncomfortable with his friendliness. "Anyways… what do you want?"

"Oh. I wanted to congratulate you on being the female MVP."

"Thanks…" Buttercup replied, coming out more like a question.

Butch chuckled, taking a sip from the cup he held. He then said, "I also want to say sorry."

"Um. Okay?"

"I'm serious, Buttercup," Butch responded, staring intensely into her lime green eyes. "I got way out of control yesterday."

Buttercup rolled her eyes, not believing Butch was actually apologizing to her. "You were just being competitive," she shrugged. "You were just amped up on adrenaline and pressure."

"That may be true, but I don't like winning in such a ruthless and aggressive way. It's bad for my—"

"Anger management," Buttercup finished with Butch raising an eyebrow in surprise. "Fine, Butch. I forgive you. Happy now?"

Butch nodded his head, a smirk on his face. "Yeah, I am—also, about what I said in the fountain…"

"Yes?" Buttercup raised an eyebrow.

"I said those things because you're the toughest competitors I've ever met. I just, I don't know, really wanted to beat you for once," Butch explained.

Buttercup chuckled, "Well, you got what you wanted." She patted his shoulder but quickly drew her hand back to her side, realizing what she had done.

"This is awkward, isn't it?" Butch said after a few seconds of silence had flown by.

Buttercup nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

Butch laughed a little at her response with Buttercup raising an eyebrow in question.

"I still can't stand you," Butch said to make things more comfortable, smiling at Buttercup.

"I fucking hate your guts," Buttercup replied, smiling softly.

"And I wouldn't want it any other way," he responded before walking away in search of his girlfriend. Butch realized while doing this that he has not seen Blossom all weekend long. He grinned at the thought, thinking of all the "catching up" they had to do.

His eyes brighten up when he spotted her orange hair in the crowd, heading straight for her. The person she was in conversation with, quickly ended their talk with Blossom when they noticed Butch approaching them. Blossom did not have this knowledge, turning around to see why they stopped speaking with her.

When she saw Butch, Blossom began to scowl at him. Butch instantly picked up her bad energy, questioning why she was in a bad mood when he finally approached her.

"Brick told me about what Ace said," she hissed. "And you _apparently_ agreed."

"What? I—"

"Don't lie to me, Butch."

"I wasn't going to lie, babe. I was going to say that I was drunk and drunk Butch says a lot of stupid shit."

"Yeah. He does," Blossom thought over. "But that doesn't change anything. I'm still pissed at you."

"Babe, come on. You know I love you. And honestly, who cares what Ace said? Why is being a slut such a bad thing? It's just way for society to shame women about their sexuality."

Blossom blinked in response, "Are you okay, Butch? Did you just agree with feminist ideals?"

"Wow… Buttercup's rants are starting to rub off on me," Butch mumbled to himself in thought. Blossom laughed, having heard what he said. "But besides that, I am sorry for agreeing and if it happens again, I'll snap Ace like a twig."

Blossom smiled a little, "I think that's a good solution."

"I agree—"

"But there will be no next time."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want you to hang out with Ace anymore."

"What? Just two days ago, you were okay with it and trusted me."

"Yeah, but then drunk Butch got you in trouble," Blossom corrected. "Ace is bad news, Butch. I don't like who you are when you're around him."

"But—"

"I don't get why you're fighting so hard for this guy. He's literally the human version of trash. Do you realize how many terrible things he's done to the people you care? Remember how he slut-shamed Buttercup after having sex with her and spread rumors about her? What about when he tricked Boomer into taking a bus to Mexico with no way of coming back? When he destroyed Bubbles' artwork for her final last year? Or maybe all the times he's tried to break us up? Is him calling me a slut not a good enough sign for you?" Blossom ranted, her porcelain skin turning a faint pink from her outrage.

Butch exhaled loudly, "I get it, babe. He's terrible. I haven't forgotten what he's done to all of you, trust me. And he's done worst. Like, when he spread Kori Listers' nudes. Or how he cheated on the entrance exam to get in here," Blossom's eyes widened quickly. "But Mitch and I are his only friends—"

"Hold on, Butch," Blossom paused. "Ace cheated?" she whispered harshly.

Butch nodded slowly, "Yeah. He cheats on everything."

"How did he possibly get away with that?"

"He had one of his four brothers take it for him. I forgot which one—I think it was Billy, but I'm not sure."

"Oh my God, Butch. I can't believe—"

"You can't say anything, Blossom," Butch warned, reading what exactly was on her mind. "If you do, it will fucking ruin his whole life."

"But it's against the rules. He shouldn't be here."

"It's too late to do anything about, babe. There are only six months left of school. So what's the fucking point?"

Blossom pondered it, slowly nodding her head, "Fine," she huffed.

"Great," Butch smirked. "And are we good?"

Blossom nodded, forcing a slight smile, "Yeah. We are."

"Good because I've missed the hell out of you," Butch said, leaning down to kiss her. Blossom met his lips, kissing him back, however, she could not get her mind off of Ace. She was in shock about him basically being at the school illegally. It outraged her. Here was a bunch of students who have worked their butts off to get into Townsville Academy—like Brick who needed this to escape poverty—and there was Ace who cheated his way into the school.

Blossom was also upset about Butch keeping all of it a secret. They were supposed to be open and honest about everything with each other, and yet, here he was hiding things from her. What else could he be keeping from her knowledge?

Blossom thought of Brick and realized how hypocritical she was being about Butch keeping a secret but it did make her trust him less.

When the couple broke apart, Blossom excused herself to get a beverage. At the drink table, she grabbed one of the cheap plastic cups the school provided and poured herself some of the artificially flavored fruit punch. Taking a sip of the red liquid, she glanced around the gym, watching all the interactions that were occurring around her.

"Well, hello Miss Blanchette," Principal Him greeted, grabbing a cup on the table and following the same actions Blossom did just a few seconds ago. "I would say we put on a successful weekend."

"I agree." She flashed a professional smile at her principal. Given her major roles at the Academy, Blossom and Him have developed a trusting relationship between each other. Blossom was Him's number one source on anything about students that did not relate to academics and Him was writing all of Blossom's letters of recommendation—the principal had just sent one to _Juilliard_ on Blossom's behalf.

"Too bad the girls couldn't pull off another win."

"I'm sure next year they'll reclaim the title."

"I wouldn't doubt it."

Blossom flickered her eyes at her principal, seeing the opportunity in which was just presented to her. She smiled devilishly, taking another sip of her fruit punch. Swallowing the beverage, Blossom put on a concerned face, remaining stoic.

"Principal Him. There's something I need to talk to you about."

"Is this about Butch because I've been trying to help him—"

"No," Blossom said, shaking her head but did raise a question in her mind to what exactly was Him going to say. What was their principal helping Butch with?

"Then what is it, Miss Blanchette?"

"It's about Ace…"


	10. Love Triangles & Basketball

"Mr. Ramirez," Him greeted as Ace entered the office. The principal motioned to one of the seats in front of the dark oak desk in the room, signaling for Ace to sit down. The lanky teen did so, rolling his eyes but his action was not noticeable due to his shades covering his eyes. "Thank you for coming in today."

"Look. I don't know why I'm here. I haven't done anything in the past week that is considered _heavily_ illegal," Ace explained, his voice on edge. Being in the presence of authority made him confess to any of his sins easily. "Only _pretty_ illegal stuff, which I deem to be huge process on my part."

Him stared unamused at the student, not fazed by anything Ace was saying. "That is not why you're here."

"Oh thank God—"

"We're dismissing you once this semester is over," Him simply stated, shuffling a stack of paper neatly.

"You're what?" Ace lowered his glasses, making eye contact with Him's dark eyes.

"We're dismissing you."

"But—But—But why?" Ace stuttered.

"You have broken the number one rule here at Townsville Academy. _On multiple occasions_ , apparently," Him explained. "But mainly, before you even attended the Academy."

"What are you—Ohhhhh," Ace remembered. "Fuck."

Him raised a thin eyebrow, "Do we have an understanding now?"

"I don't see what's the big deal," the teen challenged. "It's just cheating."

Him's eyes flickered with rage, the principal's face becoming inflamed and tone of voice shifted to a more aggressive one. "Are you kidding me? Do you know the consequences that come with cheating, Mr. Ramirez? Let me explain them to you…"

Ace began to tune Him out as his principal ranted to him about the importance of academic integrity. Sinking into the uncomfortable leather chair, Ace inhaled the gross fruity smell of the office. He was trying to wrap his mind around the fact of Him finding out his dirty, not-so-little secret. There was a rat at this school, and now, because of them, Ace was getting expelled. He snorted to himself at the thought.

He was getting expelled. There was no way for him to escape or lie his way out this decision. However, he did have the chance to find out who this filthy rat was, and he sure as hell was going to make sure he will expose them before he leaves in disgrace.

* * *

"I hate the winter," Boomer exasperated, dropping his tray on the plastic picnic table that was located in the mess hall. Due to the cold weather, the school required all students to eat inside until the weather got better. He took his usual seat next to Bubbles, who sat next to Blossom. The other side of the table consisted of Brick, Buttercup, and Butch—their seating arrangement was also in that order. "Him closes down the pool for three months. _That's like half of a year_."

"I think Him's doing you a favor by shutting down the pool. Stops you from drinking so much chlorine," Buttercup quipped, gaining laughs around the table.

"I agree with Boomer, though. Winter is the worst," Bubbles said, once the laughter died down. "It's really weird eating inside and the fluorescent lighting makes the food look… _unappetizing_."

"It's already unappetizing," Butch replied, shoving the school's chili into his mouth, receiving questionable looks from the others.

"Come on, the winter here isn't that bad," Brick added, glancing at the blonde couple. "If I were in Boston right now, we would probably be trapped inside because of a blizzard."

"Tragic," Buttercup deadpanned.

Brick narrowed his eyes at the dark-haired girl, continuing, "I actually miss the snow. I kind of wish it would here, not going to lie."

"Welp. It's never snowed here before. So you're in for a large amount of disappointment."

Brick sighed, his eyes flickering to Blossom for a brief second. "What isn't new?" he said under his breath.

"I just can't get over how it's 50 degrees outside but it felt like it was nearly 90 the week before," Blossom pointed out, unaware of Brick's comment.

"Thank global warming, my friend," Buttercup responded. "We're fucking up the Earth and climate without a shit to give."

"I mean, there's the _Paris Agreement_ to help combat it," Brick acknowledged, pushing his thoughts about Blossom out of his mind.

Buttercup rolled her eyes, "Yeah, but we're one of the dumb-ass countries not participating," she replied. "I should just move back to Japan already."

"Oooo. Can you take me with you?" Bubbles squealed. "I've always wanted to dress up like a Geisha."

"Bubs. That's cultural appropriation."

"What the hell is that?" Boomer questioned, widening his eyes.

"It's when—"

"Yo, Butch," a trio of guys called out. They approached the six's table, initiating a handshake with the green-eyed teen. Butch went along with it, but was slightly irritated by their interruption—he wanted to finish his chili. "Great game last night. You were seriously on fire."

Butch beamed at the compliment despite his annoyance. For once this year, he was the star athlete everyone was talking about. After months of hearing about how Brick was such a superb sportsman, Butch was glad to finally be getting the praise from his classmates and having the chance to display his athletically abilities. This may be because basketball was a more popular sport compared to lacrosse—Butch did not even know they had a lacrosse team until Brick informed him of his involvement—but Butch did not care. Being the best athlete at the school had always been a main goal for him. With Brick out of the picture, there was only one other person who Butch felt threatened by for the title.

"Thanks. I—"

"You were shooting straight buckets all night long," the one in the middle with dark hair said, pretending to be shooting a basketball while speaking.

"Yup—"

"And then that shot before halftime? Bruh. I think I nutted a little in my pants," the one to left, a blond, laughed, making the table of friends cringe in disgust.

"Bro. You're so gay."

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah, you are. You're such a fucking fa—"

" _Okay_ ," Butch exclaimed, not liking where this was heading. The group of guys stared at him, wide-eyed. Butch raised an eyebrow at them, not recognizing any of their faces. He figured they must be freshmen. "Thank you for the compliments but I would like to get back to eating my lunch," he dismissed.

"Oh, Oh. Sorry, bro. Didn't mean to overstep," the dark-haired teen said.

"It's fine."

The guy looked around the table, having originally not realize there were five other people at the table also, who were all staring unamused at the trio's presence. "And sorry to your friends—whoa," he said once his eyes landed on Blossom. He had heard rumors about Blossom's beauty before but never had the chance to see her so up and close. He was in awe at how she was not even wearing any makeup and yet looked breathtaking. "You're Blossom," he whispered in disbelief.

Blossom nodded cautiously. "Yeah?"

"Wait. Are you serious, bruh?" the one on the right, his hair dyed an electric shade of blue, asked. The middle guy nodded his head. The blue-haired male got down on his knees, bowing before her like she was a God. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome…" Blossom said, coming out more like a question.

"If it wasn't for you, Butch probably wouldn't be _so_ good."

Butch furrowed his eyebrows, "What—"

"Yeah, if you weren't giving him that good shit, he wouldn't be performing so well," the dark-haired guy said.

"The—"

"You're his good luck charm," chimed the blonde with a wink.

"Fuck?" Butch shouted, making the trio flinch. The guy bowing, rose to his feet swiftly, dusting off the dirt on his clothes from being on the ground. Butch stared at the three intensely, peering into their souls. "Don't you ever fucking speak to my girlfriend like that again, got it?" he threatened, not letting anyone speak ill towards Blossom after what happened last week with Ace. The three nodded.

"We're sorry. We'll leave now."

"Thank God," Butch mumbled as they began to walk away.

Buttercup rose to her feet, smirking, "Hey! If you ever want to watch a real basketball game, you should come to one of the girls' matches," she called out. The trio stared back at the dark-haired girl like she was crazy before they bursted out laughing. Buttercup sunk into her seat at the table. "Am I the only one here that is bitter about the lack of support female sports get?"

Boomer shrugged his shoulders, "In my mind, gender doesn't exist."

"Okay…"

"I think it's because guy's basketball is more exciting," Bubbles replied.

"Yeah, because I'm on the team," Butch boasted, flexing his muscles.

"Gross," Buttercup deadpanned. She glanced over to Blossom, "What about you, Pinky? You always have an opinion."

"I don't really care," Blossom murmured. Buttercup raised an eyebrow at her response, looking towards Butch. He signaled for the green-eyed girl to continue a conversation, which she followed. Brick watched this occur, wanting to ask Blossom what was wrong but could not do so as Buttercup asked him a question. He hesitantly replied, his eyes lingering on Blossom for a few more seconds before giving Buttercup his undivided attention.

"Babe."

"Yeah?"

"Those guys were just a bunch of immature douchebags. Don't let them fucking get to you."

"I'm not," Blossom lied.

"Blossom," Butch said flatly, not believing her.

"Fine," she huffed. "I'll not let it bother me."

She was lying to him again. The notions made by the three strangers were going to trouble the redhead girl. It was twice in the span of a week and a half Blossom had heard comments based on her sexuality. She was starting to believe the perfect reputation she built around herself was starting to form some cracks.

Blossom was taught to be a _Jackie Kennedy_ , not a _Marilyn Monroe_ , and yet, everyone was treating her like the latter lately. She wanted the illusion of being prim and proper, not a floozy teenage girl. Sure, what she and Butch have done with each other in the past year and a half is not exactly what her parents want for her—they bought a purity ring for her at the age 7 and expected her to wait until marriage—but Blossom liked to keep the truth of their sexual relationship behind closed doors.

This was the first real-time she started to see what everyone thought of her and Butch other than them being a power couple. They were beginning to make it known that they saw it as a hyper-sexual experience―hence Ace's comment―and even worst, there were some who viewed their sex life to be as Blossom merely being useful for "helping" Butch.

Perhaps, she was being a bit too over-analytical about what was being said. However, she did not care. It seemed as though everyone was getting ballsy enough to make comments about her relationship and because of the fact, Blossom was not pleased.

It did not help that lately she has been giving Butch more sexual favors than usual. They usually tried to have some form of sex at least once in a two-week span, but lately, they have been doing it every other day. Butch believed it was because of how much their relationship has grown stronger in the past couple of months but that was not Blossom reasoning.

For a good month, she was doing it subconsciously to keep her mind off of Brick. Somehow she convinced herself that if she became more physical with Butch, Blossom would be able to connect more with him again. To prove to herself that she could not have feelings for another person who was not her boyfriend.

Blossom also did not want to admit to the little part of her that was using Butch for when she started feeling sexual urges for Brick—it had gotten so bad lately, two weeks ago, she hooked up with Butch in a janitor's closet after seeing Brick shirtless when water from a lab spilled on him in their Chemistry class. Despite knowing it was the most manipulative and unhealthy thing she could do, Blossom could not help it. It was better for her to relieve herself with her actual boyfriend than to cheat on him. At least, that is what she told herself after messing around with Butch every time, which has worked well since she never got any feelings of guilt or remorse for doing so.

Maybe she was a terrible person but Blossom did not care at the moment. It would be much worst if she cheated on Butch and she was actively preventing herself from doing it. Therefore, she just saw herself as a conflicted person.

Yet, lately, she began to wonder what it would be like if she forgot about her image. If Blossom stopped trying to be perfect all the time. What it would be like if she did give into the temptation she was faced with. If she hooked up with Brick.

Would she be more satisfied with life? Would she stop caring about what everyone else thought?

She flickered her eyes over to Brick, smiling softly at the mere sight of him. Blossom chewed on her bottom lip to stop herself. She wanted him desperately. It was getting harder for her to contain herself since she has become fully aware of her feelings for him. She could not help thinking of all the things she wanted him to—

"I love you," Butch reminded, snapping her out of her thoughts. Blossom forced a smile, fearing that Butch might find out what she was thinking about, which was not even possible. "No matter what. I'll _always_ will."

"I love you too."

* * *

As soon as the bell dismissed Ms. Keane's last class of the day, the students rushed out of their respective classrooms, disbursing into the hallway. One of these students was Mitch Mitchelson. The brunet teen dodged his classmates as he searched through the crowded walkway for a certain peer. He grinned widely when his eyes landed on the person of interest, pushing a classmate out of his way.

"Hey Robin," he greeted when he approached her.

She smiled bashfully, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, "Hey Mitch."

"So how have you been?"

"I've been good. What about you?"

"Great. I've been great," Mitch nodded, his eyes darting back and forward in case anyone—particularly his girlfriend—was around. He coughed subtlety, his face easily becoming flustered. "I was wondering if you would want to get dinner with me tonight."

"Mitch—"

"I mean, it doesn't have to mean anything—"

"Mitch—"

"Cause you know, just because I like you doesn't mean—"

"Mitch," Robin said firmly, grabbing the brunet by his shoulders, shaking them in order to silence him.

"Yeah?"

She stopped shaking him but kept her hands on his shoulders. Raising a thin eyebrow, Robin grinned, "I like you too—"

"You do?" Mitch squeaked.

Robin nodded. "I do." She released her hold on his shoulders, much to Mitch's displeasure. She began to frown, continuing, "But I don't like the fact that you have a girlfriend."

"But—"

"But nothing. As long as you're still dating Buttercup." Robin took a deep breath, pointing to herself and then Mitch, "This isn't going to happen. I'm not a homewrecker."

"I get it."

"Plus, I'm _really_ scared of what Buttercup might do to me," Robin confessed, her eyes consumed with terror.

Mitch nodded disappointedly, "I understand."

"Good." She grabbed his shoulder again, her bright blue eyes meeting his dark brown ones, "I'll be waiting," Robin whispered, removing her hand again and disappearing down the hall.

Mitch watched, a grin slowly creeping onto his face, pumping his fist in the air to celebrate his victory. Robin liked him. She liked him so much that she was going to wait for him. That was a rare quality to find in a girl, and he could not be happier.

The only problem was his girlfriend. He and Buttercup have been together officially since August, and now that it was December, Mitch could not remember why he even became interested in her.

Wait.

He did. It was because she was one of few girls who were willing to sleep with him and did not find him repulsive. Besides that, he felt him and Buttercup had nothing in common. Plus, he was not particularly crazy about her friend group—except for Butch and maybe Brick.

Mitch was actually surprised they have not broken up yet. He had been purposely neglecting their relationship in hopes she would be the one to do so—Mitch was not courageous with confrontation, especially considering it was Buttercup. However, now he had the balls to do so, thanks to Robin's confession providing motivation.

He was going to break up with Buttercup, and he could not wait.

* * *

Since enrolling in Townsville Academy during the second semester of his freshmen year, Ace had made it his job to know everyone at the school. He did not need to get personal with them, he only wanted to know what they were useful for. For instances, Dexter was good for cheating on a test; Boomer had the ability to make anyone who felt doubtful about their own intelligence to gain a confidence boost; getting chummy with Blossom was a free pass to popularity—a difficult task though; and Princess was useful for keeping up with the rumor mill at the Academy and investigating shit.

The curly redhead was the perfect person to help him find out who the rat was. Luckily for him, the two had a history—Princess would use him to find cheap weed in exchange of her pointing out the sleezy females at the Academy for him to hit on.

Ace grinned to himself, leaning against the locker in the hallway when he saw the redhead heading his way.

"What do you want, Ace?" Princess questioned, crossing her arms and glaring at the lanky teen. "I thought I told you to never contact me again."

"I need a favor."

Princess raised an unimpressed eyebrow, "That's too bad."

Ace sighed, lowering his glasses to met her dark eyes—they were nearly pitch black, her pupils not even noticeable. He figured it matched her soul. "If you help me out, I'll return the favor."

Princess nodded, not changing her expression or the stance she had. "Go on."

Ace darted his eyes around, making sure no one was in earshot. "I need you to find out who ratted me out," he whispered.

"Well first, you need to tell me what exactly—" Ace hunched over to her ear, informing the redhead of his secret. She grinned wickedly when he leaned back. "You naughty, naughty, naughty boy."

Ace shrugged his shoulder, smirking, "I was dared to apply to the school. Didn't think I would get this far."

"Then why do you care so much about being kicked out?" Princess questioned lowly.

"Because someone here is fucking up my reputation."

"It wasn't that peachy keen to begin with, Ace."

"But it was all my doing—Consider this. How do you feel when people talk behind your back about something you didn't brag about?"

"Shitty."

"Exactly."

Princess nodded, tapping her chin in thought, "I'll help—"

"Thank you—"

"But what is in it for me?" Princess questioned, fluttering her eyelashes that were heavily covered in a black mascara.

Ace rolled his eyes, exhaling loudly. "I don't know…" He thought of all the things in which were important to Princess. She loved money, bragging about her money, makeup, fashion, making people miserable, and popularity. Princess already possessed or had the right to five out the six things. The only one she did not have, had a huge roadblock in the way. Ace smiled devilishly, "I'll try to take Blossom down before I have to leave."

Princess grinned brightly, "I think we have a deal."

* * *

During the winter season, men's basketball was the most popular sport on campus. Each home game attracted nearly half of the school's population in attendance. This year's team was drawing in more of a crowd due to starting off the season nicely—the guys were on a six-game winning streak. In addition, the games also incorporated the Academy's dance team during halftime—much to the male attendees' delight.

The match of the night was Townsville against the Farmsville' Wild-Dogs—a public school two hours away from the Academy.

The game was in the second quarter, and the crowd had become invested in the contest. Townsville was now leading by 9 points—thanks to a three-pointer made by Butch. The green-eyed teen smirked at the cheering masses on the bleachers as the ball sunk into the net. Having the audience's admiration was a feeling he long forgotten but could never get over. Uplifting his self-confidence, Butch fed off of the energy given by his peers.

Some of those peers in the stands were his four friends, who sat in the dead middle of the bleachers, gaining a perfect view of the action on the court. Bubbles and Boomer sat closely to each other, sharing a bucket of buttery popcorn. Buttercup was next to the couple, keeping her eyes fixated on the game—even though she loved playing soccer the most, basketball was her favorite sport to watch. Next to the green-eyed girl was Brick, who was playing a game on his phone.

"Ah, come on!" Buttercup shouted, standing up while the crowd jeered at whatever was happening on the court. "That was a shitty call and you know it!" She pointed towards one of the referees, who quickly diverted his eyes away from her—a majority of the referees knew and feared her due to years of criticism from her. "I know you heard me, you punk ass bit—"

"Buttercup!" Bubbles yelped. Buttercup glanced down at the blonde. The blue-eyed girl leaned over her boyfriend's lap, "I think you should sit down," she whispered, her voice on edge with dismay.

"Fine," she puffed, sinking back down onto the bleachers. "But that was a bullshit call." Buttercup darted her eyes between the two blondes. "Don't you agree?"

"Um…"

Boomer grinned widely, patting Buttercup's shoulder. "I have literally no clue what's going on, but sure."

Buttercup sighed, rolling her eyes. She turned to Brick, expecting him to agree with her—he, at least, was into sports to the same degree that she was.

"And what about you?"

"What about me?" Brick asked, pausing his game, shoving his phone in his jacket pocket, and looking up to Buttercup's lime green eyes staring at him in question.

"You think that was a bullshit call?"

"What call?" Brick smiled sheepishly.

Buttercup narrowed her eyes, "Have you not been watching the game?"

Brick shrugged his shoulders, "I've never been into watching basketball. Nor playing it."

"God. You're _so_ white."

Brick pursed his lips, not finding a way to disagree with her statement. "You're not wrong."

"I know."

"But I also don't like the constant running back and forward," Brick confessed, gesturing towards the court, which the players were doing the exact motion he was describing. "It gives me a headache."

"I knew there was a reason why I don't like you," Buttercup said flatly.

Brick chuckled at the statement, "Good one, Buttercup."

"I wasn't—"

Before she could finish, the buzzer on the scoreboard went off, alerting the players and crowd of the second quarter coming to end.

"Great. You made me miss the last three minutes," Buttercup grumbled.

"You're the one who started the conversation," Brick pointed out irritably.

"Whatever." Buttercup folded her arms, standing up once again. "Bubs, come with me to get a hot dog."

"Buttercup, you know how I feel about being associated with meat eating."

"I don't care," Buttercup commanded. "You're coming with me."

Bubbles sighed in defeat, "Fine."

Boomer grabbed her hand as she rose, "I'll come as moral support."

"Aw. Boomy," Bubbles smiled gratefully, leaning down to kiss her boyfriend. The two were an inch away from each other when Buttercup pushed the blondes apart. "Butter—"

"I'm already in a bad mood. If I don't get my hot dog, it's going to be worst," Buttercup threatened. "Got it?" Bubbles gulped, nodding slowly. "Great. Let's go now."

Bubbles and Boomer quickly followed their dark-haired friend down the stairs of the bleachers, leaving Brick alone.

Digging into his pocket, Brick pulled out his phone and began playing his game again. He was about to reach a new record when the lights of the gym grew dim and an announcer spoke throughout the gym's speakers, echoing loudly.

" _Attention. Please give a warm welcome to the award winning and three-peat regional dance team champions; Townsville Academy's very own, the Dancing Titans!_ "

The crowd—which lost a third of it's size due to those going to the concession bar or the bathroom—clapped enthusiastically while Brick raised an eyebrow in interest, putting his phone away again.

He smirked to himself, waiting in anticipation. This would be the first time he would see Blossom perform live with the dance team. From what Butch has bragged about on numerous occasions, it was a spectacle to be seen.

The lighting of the gym remained dull while a spotlight landed on the ten members of the team who stood center court. Blossom was in the front of the pack, followed by the rest in a pyramid formation. The female members wore black tights and a form-fitting, white tank-tops with a red flannel wrapped around their waists while having their hair held back into sleek high ponytails. The two male members wore a similar version of the female outfits, except they were wearing tight t-shirts instead. They all wore the same brand of black high-top sneakers.

Each kept their face to the ground, the warmth of the light pouring down on them until the first note of music played over the sound system. Brick instantly recognized the song, noting it was featured on _Big Sean_ 's most recent album.

Blossom was the first one to move while the others followed the same action only a second later by each row behind the strawberry blonde. It was not until the beat dropped in the song did the group separated into their own space, hitting the beat hard with each movement. The team kept a stony expression as they danced fluidity with the music.

While the crowd was mesmerized by the entire dancing team, Brick only had his eyes on Blossom. It was clear to him that she was the best one out of all the other dancers―with Dee Dee coming in a not-so-close second. She was more polish and precise than her teammates. Despite the hard appearance on her face for the performance, Brick could see how much enjoyment and passion Blossom had in her eyes as she danced. He could tell dancing was what she was meant to do.

He sighed loving, placing his elbow on his knee, resting his chin on the palm of his hand.

He had never seen anything so beautiful.

She was beautiful and everything she did was beautiful to him.

He just wished she knew.

"Yo Red," Buttercup announced, sliding into her seat next to him and snapping him out of his thoughts as the performance ended. She raised an eyebrow at him as she took a bite out of her hot dog—Bubbles cringed at the scene, taking her seat next to Boomer again. Swallowing the bite of food, Buttercup spoke, "You don't care about the basketball game, but you willingly watch the dance team?"

"Well, um…" Brick coughed, getting a little flustered by the question. He did not want to reveal why he enjoyed their performance, even though Buttercup knew the very reason why, raising her eyebrow in anticipation. "My phone died."

"It did?" Bubbles questioned, digging into her purse and grabbing a charge cord. "You have an _iPhone_ , right?"

Brick nodded slowly, reluctantly grabbing the cord from the blonde. "Thanks…" he said awkwardly, leaving his spot on the bleachers to find an outlet to "charge" his phone.

Buttercup rolled her eyes at the redhead's obvious lie but gladly continued eating her hot dog, happy that she did not have to deal with his presence for a little while.

* * *

"That's was an unbelievable game," Buttercup beamed as she rubbed her arms to create a sense of warmth. Half of the crowd was waiting outside of the gym to congratulate the team on their win but were slowly getting impatient due to the freezing temperature. "Did you see Butch dunking on that scrawny loser?"

Bubbles nodded, not having any recollection of the event the dark-haired girl described but she was not thinking straight thanks to the weather. She shivered as a gust of icy wind hit her back, which Boomer took immediate notice to.

"Do you want my jacket?" Boomer asked dotingly, stripping off his blue hoodie, revealing his bare torso to the everyone around them.

"Boomer! You're going to freeze to death!" Bubbles exclaimed, grabbing his hoodie and trying to pull it back down her boyfriend's head.

Boomer rejected her attempts, "Bubs, I'm fine. I'm from Hawaii, so like, I'm always warm," Boomer grinned proudly.

"That's not even plausible," Brick chimed. Boomer stared at the redhead, not understanding what "plausible" meant.

"He's right," Buttercup agreed.

"I don't care," Boomer responded. His skin already acquired a slight pink undertone caused by the chilling air. "Bubs. Just take it."

"Are you sure?" Bubbles questioned, eyeing him suspiciously. Her fingers stroked on the cotton fabric of the hoodie. It did feel pretty warm and soft.

Boomer nodded. "Of course."

Bubbles swiftly kissed his cheek before putting on the hoodie. The jacket was a bit restricting on her chest area but she did not care because it provided a slight relief of warmth to her body. "How much longer do we have to wait, Butters?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Buttercup questioned irritably.

"I just thought—"

Brick rolled his eyes, tuning out the arguing between the girls. He swore they were always fighting about something but magically forgave each other only a few days later. It was getting exhausting to keep up with.

He glanced around the area, searching for anyone he knew in order to escape the bickering, when his eyes caught the outside door for the girl's locker room opening and revealing the orange hair beauty. Smirking to himself, Brick walked over to her without a second thought, and his absence went unnoticed by the other three.

"Hey Bloss," he greeted warmly, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket to keep his fingers toasty.

He caught her off guard as her eyes widened at him standing in front of her. She was not paying attention since she had to lock the locker room door for the night—the faculty at the Academy trusted her way too much. Blossom turned her back towards the door, her face softening at the sight of him.

"Hey Brick," she said, wrapping a red scarf around her neck. Her nose was a deep shade of pink from the cold weather and her hair was still in the high ponytail, only now it was a little unkempt from her dancing. "Did you enjoy the game?" Blossom asked, instantly cringing after saying it. Could she not had thought of something more witty or cute to say?

"I'm not a fan of basketball," Brick shrugged.

"Me too," Blossom responded. "I hate the squeaking of the shoes."

"That is annoying..."

"Yeah."

"I was a fan of the dance team though," Brick grinned.

"Oh really?"

Brick nodded, taking a step forward, leaving a foot of space between them. Blossom leaned more back into the door, meeting Brick's crimson eyes. "Yeah. I was especially a big fan of their leader. She has orange hair and was," he held up his hand to about Blossom's height, "this tall."

Her face became florid as she chewed on her bottom lip. She was pretty sure he was hellbent on testing her willpower. But how could he not, if he did not even know of her own feelings? He was just making advances blindly, in hopes to impress her. Blossom gave him major props for having such a large amount of courage and persistence despite their tricky situation.

"Do you know what she's like?"

"I believe I do," he remarked. "She's incredibly intelligent, hard-working, determined, and elegant. She also pretty funny when she wants to be and has the cutest laugh I've ever heard."

"Is that all?" she asked, raising her perfectly groomed eyebrow.

"No but it's a start," Brick replied, displaying a broad smile. "But I did forget to say that she's the most beautiful person I've ever met. No matter what she does or if she's pissing me off, she always will be."

Blossom could not help hiding the grin that crept on her face. "You don't say?"

"Yup."

"Well, she sounds lovely."

"She is—well, except for one thing."

Blossom frowned, continuing, "And what is that?"

"She's confusing as hell," Brick confessed, keeping a low tone. It was now or never, he thought. It was time for him to finally confront Blossom about his feelings as he has waited too long for her to do so. "One minute, she shows no interest in me and then the next, she's…" he paused, not being able to finish his sentence—nor, wanting to complete it. A silence fell between the two before Blossom sighed loudly.

"I think she's confused also," Blossom whispered. "That's why she's being that way."

"I don't blame her though," Brick said, staring intensely into Blossom's eyes. "It's a difficult decision to make."

"It really is."

His mouth twitched upward for a second, flickering his eyes to the ground, and then exhaled deeply, "I just wish I knew what was on her mind. If she felt…" he paused, staring into her eyes once again.

"...she does," Blossom revealed quietly. "She does feel that way. In all honesty, she can't stop thinking about you. She just…" Blossom sighed again. "She just wishes things were different so it wouldn't be so complicated. She also wants you to know that she still loves..."

Brick nodded slowly, processing the information, not hiding the disappointment he felt on his face. "I understand."

Blossom chewed into the inside of her cheek, feeling guilty for confusing Brick even more. "...I'm sorry," she breathed.

Brick blinked at her. He did not want her to feel remorseful for what he started. Brick knew what he was getting himself into. He knew it would take a lot of conflicting emotions, times of disappointment and hurting for anything to happen between them. He expected this.

"Don't apologize, Bloss," Brick whispered, removing his right hand from his pocket, and cupping her cheek. The heat from the palm of his hand began to defrost the coldness of her right cheek. "I should be the one saying sorry. If I didn't let myself get out of control with my emotions—"

"I'm glad that you did though," Blossom smiled meekly. Brick shut his mouth, sharing the same expression as her. She placed her hand on top on his hand that laid on her cheek.

"Well then…" Brick trailed, leaning forward. "I think I can help you become less confused."

"You do?" Blossom questioned, raising an eyebrow, her eyes daring him to do so.

"I do."

Brick moved closer, attempting to close the gap between them. Blossom waited in anticipation, ignoring anything her conscious was telling her. An inch remained between the two when—

"Aye! Let's hear it for a seven game winning streak!" a familiar deep voice shouted out from a distance, followed by the crowd cheering.

Brick swiftly stepped away from Blossom, shoving his hand back in his pocket. He looked over to the commotion. Butch was being swarmed by their classmates, a grin plastered brightly on his face, having no clue of the conversation his girlfriend and close friend were having. He had no awareness of what almost happened between the two—again.

"We should," he coughed to himself to ease the tension. He gestured over to the area, "We should go join them." Brick glanced at Blossom, who had her arms crossed and kept her eyes downward.

"Yeah. We should."

* * *

Ace had exactly one week left in attendance at Townsville Academy. Him required for him to wait until the school went on winter break, in order to ensure a scandal would not arise—if anyone was going to question it, Him advised Blossom to inform students of Ace deciding to finish his last few months of high school in his hometown of Citiesville.

For those seven days he had left, Ace had planned the most elaborate pranks, acts of delinquency, and a plethora of glorious naps to commemorate his time at the pretentious boarding school. At the top of his list, however, was ruining the life of the person who ratted him out.

Which is why he was meeting up with Princess again. It was lunch, and everyone was still required to stay in the mess hall to eat. Ace was leaning against the wall near the vending machines, waiting and keeping an eye out for bright red curls.

He smiled wickedly at the sight of her, rubbing his hands together excitedly.

"Any news?" he asked her, lowering his shades to meet her eyes.

Princess slumped her shoulders, sighing. "None of my best gossip sources have heard an ounce of your dilemma."

"And?"

"My hackers didn't find anything," Princess pouted. "I even had my daddy's foreign friends help out—you know, the guys who helped with the election."

Ace narrowed his eyes at her, "You're Russian, right?"

"Yes, I am," Princess confirmed proudly.

"Figures."

"What do you mean?"

"So you found exactly nothing at all?" Ace inquired, brushing off her question.

"Well, there was one small thing I found."

"Why didn't you start off with that?" Ace exasperated, shooting the redhead daggers.

"If you're going to be so fucking rude, I'm not going to help," Princess said stubbornly, placing her hands on her hips and scowling at the lanky teen.

Ace sighed in defeat as she did have information for him—even if she said it was small, anything will help. "Fine. I'm sorry."

"That's better," she grinned pridefully. "And while I was snooping through Him's office during our lunch break, I found the report for your expulsion."

"And?" Ace asked in agony.

"There weren't any names on it or anything, but from what I read, the person who disclosed your secret was a _female_."

"Huh," Ace said, rubbing his chin thought. This detail will come in hand with his investigation as it eliminated half of the school's population.

Now it was time for him to find out who the hell this girl was.

* * *

 **Author's notes:**

 **First, I would like to say thank you to everyone that has reviewed, followed, and/or added my story as one your favorites. It is you who makes me more excited to write. You also put a big smile on my face every time, so thank you!**

 **Second, I'm thrilled with where I am at with this story because we're finally approaching the parts that inspired me to write this. I have basically split the story into three halves in my head. Chapters 1 to 12 are Act 1, Chapters 13 to 25 are Act 2, and 26 to 35 are Act 3. With that said, we are only two more chapters away from finishing Act 1―which, the chapters have already been written, I just have to edit them.**

 **Third, I might slow down on updating and writing because in two weeks, I will be beginning my first year of college. So I just wanted to give a heads up.**

 **Thank you!**


	11. So This Is Christmas?

Twas' the night before winter break, when all throughout the campus, not a single student was stirring, not even a snoring Butch. Their bags were packed and sat in their dorms, in hopes of going home soon in the morning.

The students have nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of two homework free weeks danced in their heads. And Him in his red silk robe and Vice Principal Bellum in her coat had rang the school's emergency alarm in the middle of the night to alert the students of the impending bad news.

"What the fuck?" Butch groaned, covering his ears with his pillow. His eyes flinched from Brick turning on a lamp that occupied the redhead's desk, flashing a bright light right in his eyes.

"Get up, Butch," the redhead yawned, rubbing his eyes to wipe away his slumber. The alarm from the hallway outside of the room continued to wail.

Butch reluctantly opened his eyes, blinking repeatedly to adjust to the brightness of the room. Once under control, he watched Brick paired his black sweats with a red thermal and a pair of sneakers. "I don't want to," Butch fought, turning over on his side, facing the wall now.

"Suit yourself," Brick chuckled. "If the place is about to burn down, I'll tell everyone you died heroically."

Butch heard the door open, mulling over his options as he sighed dramatically. Tossing over his covers, Butch got out of bed, scratching his wild bedhead and adjusting the waistband of the plaid sleeper pants he wore. He grabbed his forest green hoodie and slid on a pair of slides—he already had a pair of socks on as he could not sleep with cold feet. "Fine," he grumbled, pulling his hoodie over his head and following Brick out the door.

Brick grinned, locking their door. He knew the place was not on fire since the sprinkler system would have gone off. However, he did know it must be a real predicament since Him was using the emergency alarm system—during the first couple weeks of school, they had done numerous practice drills in the case of such an event for the alarm's usage and Him kept emphasizing the no-nonsense behavior in which was needed when they went off.

In those practice runs, the students of Townsville Academy were also required to head for the school's mess hall until further notice. As he and Butch—now being joined by Boomer, who was wearing a blue sweatshirt and sleeper pants that had a cartoon whale pattern all over them—walked towards their destination, Brick could not help noticing the heavy winds pushing against them felt eerily familiar. He was sure this was the type of weather he dealt while living in Boston—weather that should not exist in California for the most part.

Entering the mess hall, the warmth of the building's heater instantly relieved the three male's nearly frozen bodies. The hall contained a majority of the school's population while a few were still pouring in. The guys looked around the crowded area, searching for the other half of their group.

"Boomy!" They heard over the mumbled conversations around. "Boomy, over here!"

The three turned their heads to the voice, seeing a mismatched pajama—which were different shades of blue—adorned Bubbles jumping up and down with hands waving in the air to get their attention. Next to her was Buttercup—who wore a dark green long sleeve and sweatpants, rolling her eyes at the blonde's behavior and was irritated by her sleep being interrupted—and Blossom—she wore a matching set of silky pink pajamas that button down and a sleeping mask on her head like a headband with her hair tied up with the red ribbon from her cheerleading uniform.

The three soon joined the girls, wondering what the commotion was about.

"I bet it's aliens," Boomer theorized, his eyes widened. "They've finally found us."

"Bubbles," Buttercup said firmly.

"Yes?"

"Control your boyfriend."

Bubbles sighed, nodding and grabbing Boomer's shoulder, "Boomy. Why don't we go see if they're going to serve any food?"

"I do love food," Boomer agreed, grabbing her hand and leading his girlfriend through the crowd.

Butch chuckled, impressed by Buttercup's tactic of getting rid of the blonde couple. Buttercup raised an eyebrow, shutting him up. Butch attempted to play it off like nothing happened, diverting his eyes away from the green-eyed girl. He lifted his eyebrows when he spotted orange curls in the distance.

"There's Ms. Bellum," he pointed out lowly to the three others. "We should go ask her what the fuck is going on."

"I don't think we should pester her," Blossom decided. Brick nodded in agreement, causing Blossom to briefly smile at him before redirecting her attention back to Butch again.

"Come on. What else are we going to do?" Butch whined, giving Blossom puppy dog eyes to coax her. Brick blinked at the action, unimpressed with Butch's attempts of persuading, while Buttercup cringed. " _Please_ , babe."

Buttercup groaned to herself, "I'll go with you—just so you'll stop doing… whatever it is, you're doing."

Butch furrowed his eyebrows, "I don't want to go with you."

"It's either me or you'll go alone," Buttercup pointed out, folding her arms.

Butch glanced at Blossom, looking for support. Blossom nodded her head, "Buttercup's right."

Butch inhaled deeply, "Fine. Let's go, Buttercup," he exasperated, walking over to their Vice President. Buttercup trailed behind, keeping her arms crossed out of stubbornness.

"And then there was two," Brick announced, taking a right-step so he would be standing in front of Blossom.

Blossom giggled, lightly touching his forearm, "I was hoping so."

He smirked greedily. After the basketball game a week ago, the two have become more open with their flirtations with each other. Brick could not even count a number of times Blossom has touched his arms in the span of seven days. There was even one night, halfway through studying for Utonium's mid-term, that the two decided to go off-campus for a coffee break. In-between the ten minute walk back onto campus to finish studying, they had somehow ended up holding hands. Luckily, this was around ten o'clock at night, so there was not anyone who could be wondering around campus to see them―and if there was, it was too dark for them to see.

They, however, have not done anything further than flirting, subtle touches, or hand-holding. It was like they were in a blissful bubble where nothing was confusing or complicated—which they both knew was further from the truth but could not help ignoring it.

Brick looked her up and down, taking in her appearance. Even after just waking up, she was still gorgeous, he determined. He also laughed when his eyes landed on her red bow.

"I thought you only wear that with your cheerleading uniform," Brick said with amusement, pointing towards the red ribbon.

Blossom removed her hand from his arm, tugging on the ribbon to tighten it's hold on her hair. "You still don't like it?"

Brick shrugged his shoulders, "It's grown on me." He leaned forward, "But only because you're so beautiful."

Blossom smiled at his compliment, blushing a little, "Well, you're pretty cute too."

"You think so?"

She laughed, nodding. Because of the form-fitting appeal of thermals, his arm muscles were on full display through the thin but warm fabric. His chin was growing a slight five o'clock—a strange occurrence since Brick was always clean-shaven. Having left his hat in his dorm, the red strands of his hair were a fray, sticking out in multiple directions thanks to his pillow.

In Blossom's eyes, he was completely and utterly adorable.

"I love your hair, by the way," Blossom grinned, standing on her tippy toes to ruffle up his copper locks even more.

"Thanks."

"What's your secret?"

"Nothing," he smirked. "I woke up like this."

"Are you referencing _Beyoncé_?" Blossom questioned, snickering a little.

Brick smiled sheepishly, "If I say yes, would you stop respecting me?"

"Who said I respect you?"

"Ow. Harsh, Bloss," Brick replied, faking a wound to his heart.

"I'm just kidding," Blossom teased, grabbing his hand from his chest, lowering it to his side. She, however, did not release her hold. "You're one of the few people I truly do respect."

Brick grinned at the remark. "I'm honored."

"You should be."

"Oh yeah? What else do you think of me?"

Blossom chewed down on her bottom lip, trying to hide the smile that was forming. There were so many things she wanted to say but could not just choose one.

"Let's see—"

"Babe!"

Blossom quickly dropped Brick's hand, flashing a mortified smile at the sight of Butch coming closer to the two. Thankfully, a group of classmates stood in the way of the redheads, so Butch had no chance of seeing the display of affection between the two. However, Blossom could not hide the redness displayed on her porcelain skin.

"So Buttercup and I found out—Woah. Are you okay?" Butch asked with concern. "Your face is all red."

Blossom nodded, pretending to fan herself. "Yeah. It's just really hot in here with the heater and the large amount of people," Blossom lied. Butch bobbed his head in agreement, while Buttercup raised an eyebrow, catching on to the obvious lie. Buttercup flickered her eyes to the other person in the circle they had formed to speak in. She rolled her eyes, knowing exactly why Blossom was flustered.

"Anyways. We found out what's going on."

"And?" Brick asked.

"Apparently there's a blizzard heading this way in four days."

"What?" The two redheads said in unison.

"You heard him," Buttercup said flatly.

"But how?"

"I don't know," Butch answered. "I thought it didn't fucking snow in California."

"Actually, we are in Northern California. It's a rare event, but blizzards do happen here," Brick pointed out. The three stared at him, not understanding how he knew the fact. Brick sighed, slumping his shoulders, "When I was six, I was really into meteorology." The three snickered at Brick's expense. "Yeah. Yeah, laugh it up," he frowned.

Once the laughter died down, Blossom spoke, "Are you sure it's a blizzard?"

Buttercup nodded, "That's what Bellum said, and she's never wrong."

"I actually should have known it was coming," Brick chimed. "The wind outside remained me of when I was back in Boston and when we get blizzards—Owwwww!" Brick exclaimed, rubbing his arm where the dark-haired girl had punched him, causing an excruciating amount of pain—the girl had more power than some of the guys he went up against in football. "What the fuck was that for, Buttercup?"

"I just remember your pasty ass was wishing for snow about a week ago," Buttercup huffed, jabbing his chest. "You're the reason why there's a blizzard."

"That's not how the weather works," Brick exasperated, pushing her finger away.

"I don't care. I swear to God. All you do is ruin—

" _So_ ," Blossom said loudly over Brick and Buttercup's bickering, gaining their attention and Butch's. "Why did they wake us up at 2 in the morning to tell us about the blizzard? Couldn't they have waited for a decent time?"

"That's what I fucking said to Bellum," Buttercup responded.

"Him is supposed to tell us why," Butch finished.

"Then where is—"

"Hello students," a whispery tone filled over the intercom in the mess hall, echoing through out the building. All the students turned their focus to the table in which their principal stood upon, still wearing his silk rope. "I would like to thank you all for your appropriate response to the emergency alarm—"

"He sure does like to stall," Buttercup quipped, earning a chuckle from the three around her.

"—But that is beside the point. I'm sure you're not aware of the reasons to why I called you here since we do not allow television here and I'm expecting none of you generally check the weather on your phones, but I am here to inform you of a blizzard that is heading in this very direction in four days." The crowd gasped, shocked by the revelation. Him nodded, continuing, "I know. I know. It's unbelievable news, but that is not why you are here—"

"I told you," Buttercup whispered to the three. " _Loves_ to stall."

"—I called you here at this time because I regretfully need to inform everyone here that whatever plans they had to return home on a flight sometime during the daytime later today for the winter break, will not be happening." The mess hall became consumed by jeering from the student body as Him tried to calm the crowd down. "Students. Students, please." Him's face became inflamed, glaring at the sea of children. In a deep, commanding masculine tone, Him spoke into the microphone, "Silence!"

The mess hall grew silent as the students blinked at their principal in fear. Him grinned at the results, lessening a red skin tone and reverting back to a calmer voice. "I'm dearly sorry you wouldn't be able to see your families this winter break, but this is out of my hands as all flights for the next week have been canceled since the closest airport to us is not prepared for this type of weather, even at the current state it is at right now. But I will work hard with the Academy's trustees to figure how to refund your planes tickets—" All the students glanced at Blossom or Princess, depending on who was closest. "—On a brighter note, the Academy will allow all of you to stay on campus for the next two weeks and we will provide any amenities needed, such as warm meals, candles, and blankets. Thank you for your cooperation. You may return back to your dorms now."

The crowd groaned with a majority trying to shove each other out the mess hall's doors to go back to sleep. Some had tears in their eyes from the thought of not seeing their parents for the holidays.

The group of four remained in the mess hall, waiting for the traffic by the doors to dissipate. Blossom and Butch did not seem upset by the news—their spirits were actually uplifted by the information. It was the complete opposite reaction for what Buttercup and Brick felt, as they were disheartened. Buttercup—not that she was going to admit it—missed her family, while Brick was eager by the idea of seeing his mom again—he was also going to inform her about his decision to play football again and his commitment to Stanford.

"Merry fucking Christmas," Buttercup seethed.

* * *

After gaining back their much-missed sleep and waking up collectively at an appropriate time—1 o'clock in the afternoon—the group of six friends met up by the school's marble fountain—which was turned off due to the weather. For thirty minutes, they walked around the campus aimlessly, trying to find anything to possibly kill time. When Bubbles and Boomer started to complain about the coldness, Buttercup and Butch began bickering, and Blossom's body appeared to be turning a bright shade of red, they could not have said yes fast enough when Brick suggested hanging out in the library.

Taking up two couches that faced each other in the lounge area of the building, Bubbles snuggled up against Boomer's side to gain warmth from his body with Buttercup keeping a great amount of distance from the couple on the other side of the couch that they shared. Butch leaned against the armrest, pulling Blossom close to him in order to bring her back to a normal body temperature, and Brick sitting by the couple, feeling slightly awkward by the seating arrangement.

"This fucking blows," Butch complained, rubbing small circles into Blossom's back. "There's nothing to do here."

"We could watch movies in the theater room," Boomer suggested.

"Hell no," Buttercup objected, shaking her head at the blond. "They only show shitty chick flicks from the 80's or poorly written anime films that don't even have subtitles."

"Aren't you Japanese? Shouldn't you know what they're saying?" Brick questioned.

Buttercup sighed out of frustration, "For some reason, they're all in Portuguese."

"Huh. I wonder who's responsible for that," Brick responded, glancing at Butch who smiled sheepishly.

"Freshmen year prank," Butch bragged. "I was such an amateur then, but it is still one of my favorites that I've ever pulled."

Buttercup laughed sarcastically, "So clever."

The dark-haired boy rolled his eyes, "So clever," Butch mocked. Buttercup narrowed her eyes, opening her mouth to respond with a comeback but Bubbles beat her to it.

"Then what else is there to do?"

Brick shrugged, "Dexter has a boat load of board games. I'm sure I can convince him to let us borrow them."

"Not if Butch's playing with them," Blossom pointed out.

" _Right_ ," Brick sighed. "Then I got nothing."

"I can't fucking believe we're stuck here for two fucking weeks," Buttercup exasperated.

"I know. I was looking forward to seeing my Abuela… it will be my first Christmas without her since my mom passed," Bubbles sniffed.

"She lives in San Diego. Can't you just drive down there one day?"

"Are you crazy, Buttercup? That's almost a 12-hour drive."

"Hey. Don't get shitty with me. I want to see my family just as much as you do."

"I am going to miss surfing with my dad on Christmas morning," Boomer sighed. "And my mom and her famous Christmas malasadas."

"Aye. You eat those too?" Butch grinned. He quickly frowned when Boomer did not respond back. The blond was staring absently at nothing as were Bubbles and Buttercup. He turned to Brick and Blossom, "You're not depressed about all of this like them, are you?"

"I really do miss my mom," Brick confessed, his voice cracking a little.

Blossom lifted her head from Butch's shoulder, meeting his emerald eyes, "I'm not but it's for different reasons."

She was pleased about not going home for the holidays. Those two weeks were like hell to her. With her mom's constant backhanded comments that were accompanied with disappointing stares, and her dad ignoring her presence by giving her his black card for the break just so he would not have to deal with her, Blossom could not muster enough strength to the deal with the emptiness she felt during the "happiest" time of the year. Being stuck at school with her close friends that she loved, now that was what the holidays should be like.

"I feel the same way."

Like Blossom, Butch did not want to go back to his home in Pompano Beach, Florida. In his family of seven, he was the youngest sibling and the second male to the family. Despite the idea of the youngest getting the most attention by the parents, this was untrue in Butch's household. His parents paid more attention to his three sisters but mainly, his older brother—the firstborn—Adrian. Having a seven-year difference, Adrian constantly tormented Butch growing up but was still viewed as the golden child by their parents. Not getting enough attention from his parents, Butch turned to sports to get the praise he sought for but also developed a heavy amount of resentment towards his brother and parents—mainly his brother though.

This was how he developed his anger issues. After years of bottling up his emotions, not being able to stick up to his brother and feeling neglected by his parents, it was easy for Butch to use his blind rage as an outlet to remove himself from the situation. However, his parents were not a fan of all the holes punched into their walls and every conversation becoming an argument, so they decided to put him in therapy at his middle school to fix his anger problem. It was there, waiting in the school office for his appointment, did he pick up a flyer for Townsville Academy and the rest was history.

Not going back for two weeks, relieved Butch. For the last three years, during those short fourteen days, he always felt his control over his anger slowly slipping away from him. This year, he did not have to worry about it. He had absolutely nothing to agonize about going into the New Year.

"But it does suck that everyone else is bummed out."

Butch nodded, glancing around the seating area, getting irritated by the bleak mood that his four friends were setting. "Guys. It's fucking Christmas—"

"I thought it was in two days?"

"It is, Boom," Butch huffed. "But come on guys, it's fucking Christmas. We should be bouncing off the walls and shit from glee."

"Glee?" Buttercup questioned, raising an eyebrow in amusement. "Nice word choice."

Butch brushed off the comment, continuing, "Not to mention, we have no fucking supervision. That means no parents watching our every move. No annoying relatives we have to tolerate. And no one is stopping us from getting fucking drunk and high as shit."

"That's not happening," Blossom whispered sharply to him.

"Okay. No one is stopping us from drinking or smoking weed. Better?" Blossom blinked at his comment, unimpressed. Butch nodded, taking it as a yes. "Good. Now quit having a pity party for yourselves and start looking on the bright side."

"You do have a point," Brick commented.

"Are you suggesting we have a party?" Bubbles asked, lifting herself out of Boomer's arms. Her eyes lighting up in excitement.

"You know what? Fuck yeah. Let's throw a fucking party," Butch announced loudly, gaining looks from those in the library; two people shushed him.

Buttercup grinned, "I'm in."

"Me too," Boomer chimed.

"I can pull some strings to get Him to agree with it," Blossom suggested

"A.K.A. you're going to use your money."

"Duh, Butters."

"What about you, Red? You in?" Butch questioned.

Brick shrugged his shoulder, smirking, "It has been awhile since I've enjoyed a good party."

"Yes!" Butch exclaimed, pumping his fist in victory. A few more people shushed him.

"Yay!" Bubbles clapped, getting shushed too. "I'll make all the Christmas snacks you could think of and get the decorations."

"I got Him and the location," Blossom determined.

"I'll take care of the sound equipment and helping Bubs," Boomer added.

"I'll get all the goodies," Butch implied, grinning devilishly. "I'll even get the high-quality shit too."

"And Brick and I will spread the word around campus," Buttercup finished. "These fuckers have nothing else to do, so it's a blessing for them to even go."

"Sound fucking perfect," Butch responded, rubbing his hands together in excitement.

* * *

Knocking on a mahogany door, Butch waited patiently for the door to open, being greeted by a yawning Ace who was only wearing a pair of boxers. The lanky teen leaned against the door frame, raising an eyebrow at the appearance of Butch standing in front of him.

"What's up?"

"Hey. So we're having a party and I was wondering…" Butch paused, peering into Ace's dorm room and noticing the bareness of his side of the room. "Are you changing rooms?"

"No," Ace huffed. "I'm getting expelled. I was supposed to leave today but the dumb-ass blizzard is preventing me since my pops doesn't like driving in the snow. So I'm stuck here for another two weeks."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ace shook his head, "What happened?" Butch questioned curiously but not surprised.

"Someone told Him about me cheating on the entrance exam," Ace revealed, rolling his eyes.

Butch blinked, trying to recollect if he accidentally told Him about Ace's deception. However, Butch had no memory of doing so. He only told…

"Do you know how he found out?" Butch asked quickly.

"Someone ratted me out," Ace seethed.

"Do you know who?"

"No but I do know that they were a girl."

Butch frowned at the fact. It confirmed his suspicion of Blossom being the one who told Him. He should have seen this coming, in all actuality. Blossom prided herself on academic integrity but also had a deep hatred for Ace. Butch was actually shocked that Ace had not made the connection yet.

Nonetheless, Butch was glad Ace was not intelligent enough to do so. He did not want Blossom getting involved in whatever chaos that he surely knew Ace was planning for revenge. In end, Ace truly got what he deserved. After Blossom ranted to him about how absolutely terrible Ace was, Butch had come to the conclusion that his girlfriend was correct.

Even if he still considered Ace as a friend, Butch finally saw the sliminess he possessed. Which is why he had to protect Blossom.

"How did you figure that out?"

"I had Princess investigate—"

"You trusted Princess?" Butch snorted. "You do know, that ever since she came back, she's been searching for any type of scandal so that everyone can forget about what she did last year?"

Ace blinked in reply, realizing his mistake. "No…"

"Bro. You got played."

Forming tight fists, Ace's face twisted in anger, "Oh. I'm going to end that fucking bitch."

"Sounds like fun," Butch grinned, impressed by his skill at bullshitting and saving Blossom from any trouble. "On another note, what's the place where you buy your weed from?"

* * *

"How does it look?" Bubbles asked enthusiastically for the others' reaction. It was the first time they were seeing her decorating skills for their party.

Butch, Blossom, Brick, and Buttercup stripped off their coats, shaking off the snow they collected from outside at the doorway. Butch placed a heavy box on the ground, gazing around the large space with the three beside him. Like every other party which was held on campus, Blossom chose to use the agricultural building because of the openness of the spot. However, this time she actually got Him's permission to turn a blind eye at the use of the area for the event after having her father donate a sizable check to the Academy.

Bubbles had transformed the usual house party-esque appeal of the building into an image of a classy and family-friendly space. Red and green Christmas lights hung from the ceiling and bordered around the snow covered windows. An enormous, tall Christmas tree—thanks to the high ceilings of the space—stood in the western corner, decorated with an assorted amount of ornaments and tinsel. There was a table with numerous treats, such as cookies decorated as reindeer and Santa, and a bowl of punch. Through the sound system Boomer set up, classic Christmas songs played—at the moment, "Let it Snow" sang from the speakers. Bubbles also placed a bin full of Santa hats by the door for anyone to take—Butch eagerly placed one on his head.

"Bubs," Blossom gasped, her eyes twinkling with the lights. "It's perfect."

"Not as perfect as you," Butch whispered in Blossom's ear, kissing her temple. Blossom forced a smile, wrapping her arms around Butch's waist as he stroked her back.

"You think so?"

"This is the type of shit I expect to see in one of those cheesy Christmas movies," Buttercup responded.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"It is a Christmas party, Bubs. So it's a good thing."

"Oh thank God," Bubbles sighed in relief. "I was so concerned you would hate it."

"We could never hate anything you do, Bubs," Brick reassured.

"Speak for yourself, Red," Buttercup mumbled.

Brick narrowed his eyes at the girl before brushing off her comment. "Where's Boomer?" he asked, glancing around and noticing the blond was missing.

"Emergency paper plate and cups run."

"Oh good," Butch grinned, freeing himself from Blossom's embrace to lift up the cardboard box he brought in and placing it on the table Bubbles' had set up. He reached into the box, grabbing two of the many bottles that occupied the space. "Because I brought enough booze to get us shitfaced."

"Butch," Blossom warned.

"What? We've been stuck in our rooms for the past two days. I'm sure everyone is starting to get stir crazy."

"Dude. You got _Grey Goose_?" Brick questioned in disbelief, grabbing the bottle out his roommate's hand.

Butch nodded, smiling devilishly. "I got bottles of _Grey Goose_ , some _Patrón_ , _Captain Morgan_ , peppermint _Smirnoff_ for the chicks, and _Bud Light_ ," he listed. "Also, a bottle of Rosé Champange for my love," Butch grinned, pulling the bottle out and handing it to Blossom.

Brick raised an eyebrow as Blossom took the bottle, "You drink?"

"I'm from Burgundy, France. Of course, I drink," Blossom replied, shrugging her shoulders. "But only on holidays and special occasions."

"Plus, she's super boujee about what she drinks," Buttercup teased.

"True."

"Do you want to see how I decorated the two classrooms?" Bubbles asked, staring eagerly at the group. Besides the wide open space that was usually occupied for partying, there was also two separate rooms on the eastern side of the building. It was where the overflow of a party went or, if they were lucky and fast enough, a room used to hook up in. There was also a bathroom located in both rooms.

"Sure," Blossom, Butch, and Brick responded.

"What about you, Butters?"

"I think I'm going to stay out here and making sure no early party guests try to steal the alcohol," Buttercup replied. It was the truth, but she also wanted some alone time before the party.

"Alright," Bubbles smiled, leading the other three to the classrooms.

Buttercup danced her eyes around the room again, taking in the festive feel. Christmas held a special place in her heart, being one of the few times her immediate and extended family were collectively altogether—funerals and weddings were the other times. Buttercup's deep love for the holiday and all things involving it was a well-kept secret. She loved being a part of all the cliches and non-religious traditions of Christmas. There was just one thing Buttercup could not stand about the holiday.

The music.

Grabbing the phone in which the stereo was plugged into and unlocking it to access the playlist—it must have been Boomer's phone since there was no pass code—she swiftly changed the playlist from Holiday Jams to a generic party mix. A satisfied grin formed on her face, nodding her head to the beat as a song by _The Weeknd_ played, using a heavy amount of bass.

"Hey Buttercup."

She quickly turned around, her eyes widened. The expression on her face immediately changed when she saw it was Mitch, smirking at her boyfriend. "Hey. I didn't even hear you come in."

"Oh. Sorry about that."

"It's fine," Buttercup replied, shifting her weight and trying to find a way to relieve the awkwardness between them. Their relationship still needed a lot of work but she was willing to fix it despite he's lack of effort. "I'm glad you're here early, we can start celebrating Christmas together now."

Mitch glanced around, taking in the blatant decor, "I'm Jewish..."

" _Right_ ," she said, instantly remembering the fact, rubbing the back of her neck. "I totally forgot."

"It's okay," he replied. The two stood in silence for a few seconds with Mitch clearing his throat to break it. "I'm actually glad we're alone because I've been needing to talk to you."

"Oh."

She could not even hide the disappointment in her voice, fully expecting what was about to come.

"Yeah," he sighed, meeting everything but her eyes. "I think we should break up... I don't think we're right for each other."

Buttercup nodded slowly, forming tights fists. "I get it."

"So you're fine with it?"

"I'm not fine with it," Buttercup countered, folding her arms. "But I'm not going to fight you on it when you obviously didn't fight to fix anything."

Mitch opened his mouth to reply but instead just shrugged his shoulders, "You're not wrong."

"I know..."

"Well… I hope we can still be friends," Mitch said sheepishly, inching his way back towards the door.

Buttercup rolled her eyes as he left the building, leaving her alone. She sighed to herself dishearteningly.

She knew this was going to happen for the past two months now; she was just in denial about it. Buttercup desperately wanted her first relationship to work. She wanted what Boomer and Bubbles have. And despite her attempts to improve things, it still blew up in her face.

Maybe she just was not meant to be in a relationship. She just was not as desirable as Bubbles and Blossom were. She was too rough and an explosive. That was why no one wanted to be in a relationship with her. Mitch was the only person who even considered the thought, and she was sure it was a decision based on lust.

Buttercup was also sure that she was probably going to end up dying alone while all her friends carried on their lives with their families and spouses. It was—

Her face twisted in irritation when she heard Bubbles' giggling. After being dumped, Buttercup knew she could not handle any of her friends' shit without prompting one of them to have a breakdown or spiral into an intense fight by the end of the night. But since it was Christmas, Buttercup did not want to ruin their holiday.

Buttercup's eyes landed on Butch's box of boozes. Perhaps some liquor in her system would get her mind off of everything. Grinning mischievously, Buttercup tore off the plastic wrapping on one the bottles―not even bothering to check what brand of liquor it was. Twisting off the cap, she took a swift swig.

As a burning sensation hit her chest, Buttercup had found the solution to her problems.

* * *

Within an hour, the Christmas party was in full effect. Nearly the entire school was there, crowding the spacious building. A large amount of guests were on the dance floor, bobbing their heads around to _Future_ rapping about an assorted amount of drugs. Bubbles was making rounds, being the gracious host that she was, dragging Boomer along with her. Butch was either chugging some form of alcohol with friends from the basketball team or checking in with Blossom. Buttercup was not anywhere to be seen but it went unnoticed by the party-goers. And then there was Blossom and Brick, who stood against one of the windows, carrying on a light-hearted but flirtatious conversation.

"Most embarrassing Christmas memory?" Blossom questioned, smiling uncontrollably at the thought. She held a tight grip around her cup of Rosé while sitting on the windowsill, letting the coldness of the glass radiate onto her back, and keeping her eyes solely on Brick.

"Are we really going there?" Brick laughed, standing beside her, staring down to met her pink eyes. Blossom nodded gleefully. "Fine," he sighed. "I once thought someone was breaking into our house on Christmas Eve, so I hit them with a baseball bat… it ended up being my uncle in a Santa costume. I bruised his knee severely, and needless to say, I got a large amount of coal the next morning."

"How did you not see that coming?" she snickered.

"I was eleven," Brick defended, taking a sip of the beer he held and swallowing. "I was trying to protect my mom… and my presents."

Blossom smiled, laughing. "You're ridiculous."

"And yet, you're still into me."

Blossom raised an eyebrow in amusement, taking a sip of her drink to hide the redness of her porcelain skin. "Sadly, I am."

"Please, Bloss." He took a seat next to her on the windowsill. "You happily want me," he said lowly to her.

Blossom flashed a flirty grin. "Perhaps."

"So you're going to be coy now? "

"No," she whispered, leaning over to his ear. "There's no denying now how much I want you."

"Prove it."

"You know I can't," Blossom argued, her entire demeanor shifting.

"Right," he exhaled, rolling his eyes. "You're still—"

"Aye. Mistletoe," Butch exclaimed, appearing from out of the crowd, still wearing the Santa hat. He held a small piece of greenery, pinching it from it's small stem. Holding it over Blossom's head, Butch leaned down for a kiss. Given his drunkenness, the kiss turned into a sloppy make-out session. Blossom went along with it because he was her boyfriend and she loves him, but also to show Brick that the couple was still solid. Once they broke apart for air, Butch stared into her eyes lovingly, "God. I love you so much."

"I love you too."

"This is the best fucking Christmas ever!" he replied, straightening himself out and turning his back to Blossom. "Who wants to play beer pong?" he shouted drunkenly over the music, walking away from the redheads.

Blossom lightly touched her lips, wishing she could get the taste of Butch's beer breath out of her mouth. She felt Brick's crimson eyes burning into her skull. However, she ignored him, taking another sip of her drink.

Brick sighed loudly, fixating his sight on the party and his drunk classmates. "Bloss. What are we doing?"

Blossom blinked at his question. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. I'm not trying to be some side piece for you," he retorted. "I really care about you."

"I know," Blossom sighed.

"Then why are you doing this?"

"I told you. I'm confused."

"And I get that. But you can't say you want me and then make out with your boyfriend in front of me a second later," Brick argued. "That's just being greedy."

"Fine. The next time we make out, I'll make sure to do it at a safe enough distance away from you," Blossom sassed, annoyed by his assumption.

Brick rolled his eyes, "That's not what I meant, Blossom."

"Then what did you mean? What do you want, Brick?"

"I want to be with you, Blossom," he snapped, his eyebrows furrowing in irritation. "I thought it was pretty obvious by now."

"Yeah but—"

"But nothing. You shouldn't be constantly juggling yourself between me and Butch. You shouldn't be putting me in this position."

"You put yourself in this position, Brick."

"Oh, I'm well aware," Brick chuckled darkly.

Blossom inhaled sharply, "I don't know what you want me to do, Brick. There's not much I can do."

"There's one thing you can do," he said lowly. "You can decide. Butch or me."

"Brick—"

"Bloss. What you're doing, is not fair to me or Butch. I'm sorry for putting us in this situation to begin with but you're the one who's dragging it on."

Blossom opened her mouth in reply, but shut it, nodding instead. "You do have a point."

"I know I do."

She met Brick's eyes, feeling remorse for hurting him but also for being incapable of giving him a straight answer. Her reasons for doing so, varied too often. One day, was because of how it might look if she switched her boyfriends too quickly. The next it was if everyone judged her for dumping Butch. After that, it was if her and Brick only worked if they were not together.

If the spark were to disappear as soon as they become a couple. Or that they lose their friendship in the process.

The main argument for her, however, was on the question of whether which option will make her the happiness. They both had the capability of doing so but she was not sure which would be more fulfilling, as she has yet to experience what it would be like to be with Brick. She did not want to be left full of disappointment if she made the wrong decision, like she has dealt with her whole life.

Blossom just wanted to make the right choice.

"I just need time to figure things out," she murmured.

"That's fine." He lifted his bottle against his mouth, "You have until New Year's," Brick decided, taking a sip of his beer.

"What?"

"You heard me."

Blossom sighed, knowing this was the best decision for the both of them―and also Butch. Having a due date always did help push her.

"Fine... I'll make up my mind by then."

"Great." He lifted his bottle again. "Cheers to that?" Blossom grinned, hitting her cup against his drink. "Here's to a Merry Christmas."

" _And a Happy New Year._ "

* * *

"–Not to mention, I was the one who came up with the decor," Bubbles bragged, during her latest round around the party. Bubbles would ask each group how they liked the party, which often led to them asking her how the six put it all together. She was happy to explain, but also eager to inform them of her involvement more than anything. "I got my inspiration from watching _The_ _Grinch_. I just love the color scheme of—"

"Um, Bubs," Boomer whispered into her ear, interrupting her. He had just returned from using the bathroom.

Bubbles glanced at him, speaking lowly, "Yes, Boomy?"

"There's someone crying in one of the classrooms."

"Did you see who it was?" Bubbles asked curiously, her eyes widened. No one should be crying on Christmas, especially not on Bubbles' watch or at her party.

"Ohhhh," Boomer realized. "That's what I forgot to do. I knew there was something I had to do but I just thought I forgot to wash my hands."

Bubbles sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "Did you at least wash your hands?"

"I, um…"

"Go wash them, please."

"You got it," Boomer replied, saluting her like she was a soldier.

Bubbles flickered her attention back to the group she was speaking to, excusing herself. She headed for the two classrooms, figuring the one containing the crying person was in the room with the door closed tightly. The blonde peered into the dark room, in search for a shadowy figure.

"Get out," the person warned, their voice cracking a little.

Bubbles stopped herself, trying to conclude where she has heard the person's voice before. When she came to the realization, Bubbles was in complete shock.

"Buttercup?" she asked cautiously.

She heard her dark-haired friend groan, "Yes?"

"Why are you—"

"Shut the door, Bubs."

"Oh. Sorry," Bubbles responded, doing as ordered. She walked slowly to where Buttercup sat. It was hard to see due to the dimness of the room but Buttercup sat on one of the tables that were left in the room, hugging her knees and laying her chin on top of them. Her lime green eyes glowed because of the light peering in for the door's window. Bubbles joined her on the table, not sure whether to comfort her or not—she was scared of what Buttercup might do. "Butters… are you—Are you crying?"

"No," she said harshly. "I'm just sweating from my eyes."

"Buttercup."

"Okay. Fine," Buttercup exasperated. "I was crying a little. I drank a whole bottle of vodka and I can get emotional when I drink. Sue me."

"Well, the tears do have to come out somehow," Bubbles quipped. She waited for a lighthearted response from her friend but got nothing in return. "What's really wrong, Buttercup? Is this because of your family—"

"No."

"Okay. Is it the party? Is it too much—"

"Mitch broke up with me," she confessed bitterly.

"Oh my God. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine. It was going to happen anyway."

"It's not fine. He was your first real boyfriend, and obviously, you're hurt by it."

"I'm not hurt by him dumping me," Buttercup responded. "Sure. I did like him, and there was a moment where I did think we could be like you and Boomer—"

"Me and Boomer?"

"Yeah," Buttercup nodded. "You and Boomer. You have that long lasting, forever type of shit love. It's sickeningly and intoxicating, and I can't stand to be around you sometimes because of it—"

"What?"

"―But I want something like that."

"Oh Buttercup," Bubbles exhaled. "I didn't know..."

"No one does... Look, I'm the first person to say I don't need anyone, and you know how independent I am. I don't want it for the co-dependence or to be in a relationship to just say I am in one. I just want to feel..."

"You want to feel what it's like to fall in love?" Bubbles finished.

Buttercup nodded, "I'm too invulnerable, so therefore, no one ever considers that I may want a relationship. No one thinks that I want to be loved by someone else. No one expects that I want a perfect relationship like you and Boomer—"

"Boomer and I don't have a perfect relationship," Bubbles revealed, interrupting the green-eyed girl. "Sometimes he annoys the crap out of me, and when he gets in one of his occasional sour moods, he can't stand me either. We argue, we say things that we don't mean sometimes, we can get passive aggressive, but we do apologize, own up to our faults, and forgive each other. I just don't let anyone know because it's our own private business."

Buttercup nodded, taking in the new information. "But you still have the best relationship that anyone could ever want. Same with Blossom and Butch."

"Blossom is literally acting like another guy is her boyfriend. There's nothing grand about them."

"With how Butch treats her, yeah, there is," Buttercup argued. "He loves her no matter what. Even when she gets on his nerves or she treats him like shit... For fucks sake, he knows about Brick liking her, and yet, he has so much trust and love for her, that he doesn't even let it bother him."

"I thought it did?"

"Obviously not anymore. Earlier today, he and Brick were joking around, throwing snowballs at each other like Blossom didn't even exist."

"That is true…"

"But that's not the point, Bubs. What I'm saying is, you and Boomer, you fight for your relationship. You love each other so much, that you will do anything for each other and your relationship. Same for Butch with Blossom... I want that. I want that "never give up" kind of love."

"Well," Bubbles sighed, trying to find the best piece of advice. "You just have to find the right person. Mitch obviously wasn't that for you."

"And what if I never do, Bubs? What if no one is able to love me? I'm just going to end up alone while everyone moves on with their life."

"Buttercup. That's not going to happen."

"How do you know?" she snapped.

"I don't know," Bubbles shook her head. "But it's up to you to make sure it doesn't."

Buttercup laughed at the statement, "Like I haven't tried."

"You just—"

"I'm worried no one will ever love me," Buttercup confessed, her voice cracking more than it did at the beginning of the conversation.

Bubbles furrowed her eyebrows, "That's such a sad thought, Buttercup. There are people that already love you. I love you. Boomer loves you. Blossom and Brick do too—" Buttercup snorted at the mention of Brick's name. "—and even though you both act like you hate each other, I know, deep down, Butch does really care about you."

"I think that one is a stretch, Bubs," Buttercup responded.

"It might be but it is true," Bubbles argued. "Buttercup. You don't need to worry about this because, until you find the right person, you have all of us to make up for the love you need."

"Yeah. You're right" Buttercup looked up to the blue-eyed girl, realizing how ignorant she was being for forgetting the love she had obtained from her friends. "Thanks..."

"No problem."

"Also... I want to apologize for being so hard on you all the time," Buttercup said after a few seconds of silence.

"It's fine."

"It's not. I do it out of spite. I can get envious of how damn happy you are all the time and practically have your whole life together," Buttercup revealed. Bubbles tilted her head in shock, connecting her new knowledge to all the arguments the two have ever had. For a majority of them, it all started to make sense as to why Buttercup picked a fight or had some harsh words. "Everyone here believes Blossom has this perfect life, but it's really you, Bubbles."

"But I don't have one."

"I know. You've been through a lot of shit, Bubs. And yet, you came out a better person because of it. I haven't even been through anything like the dramatic shit that you have, and yet, I'm the biggest bitch ever."

"No, you're not," Bubbles argued.

Buttercup raised an eyebrow, smirking, "Then you should have seen me threatening the couple who was in here first."

"Oh Buttercup," Bubbles chuckled.

She shrugged her shoulders, "All I'm saying is I'm sorry for projecting my insecurities onto you."

"We all do it at some point or another," Bubbles replied, in an attempt to ease any of Buttercup's guilt but also because it was the truth.

"Unless we're Blossom, who claims to have no insecurities," Buttercup quipped.

Bubbles giggled at the comment. "Maybe so."

Buttercup glanced at the door, watching the individuals who passed by, "Want to go back?"

Bubbles nodded, jumping off the table. She lent out her hand to Buttercup, who accepted it, following the blonde's same actions from a few seconds ago. Bubbles grinned at her green-eyed friend, excited that she opened up to her for once instead of Blossom.

"By the way, Buttercup. It doesn't make you any less stronger for wanting to be loved. It's a normal attribute that we all have," Bubbles explained quietly. "And takes a lot of courage to admit our fears. Same with being vulnerable."

"Yeah..." Buttercup sighed, recalling the similar conversation she had with the blonde's boyfriend over a month ago. "Still makes me uncomfortable though... Makes me feel like a pansy."

"Pansies are nice," Bubbles grinned. "They're one of my favorite flowers."

"Of course they are," Buttercup chuckled, hiccuping a little from the liquor she consumed.

Bubbles nudged Buttercup's arm as she opened the door to the classroom, "You know. I like drunk Buttercup a lot. She's way more open and nice."

Buttercup rolled her eyes playfully, not hiding the grin from her face.

"Shut up."


	12. A Night Not To Remember

"I'm so fucking tired of eating school food," Brick groaned, stabbing his fork into the powdered eggs provided for breakfast by the Academy―he was regretting his decision of choosing them this morning as they tasted nothing like actual eggs.

"You could just call _Uber_ _Eats_ ," Buttercup suggested, stirring around her cinnamon oatmeal. "Instead of complaining all the time."

Brick rolled his eyes, shoving a fork full of eggs in his mouth and cringing as he chewed. "I don't have money for that," he countered after swallowing. "You probably don't know what's it like to be broke, I'm guessing," he said maliciously. Brick has noticed lately how rudely Buttercup has been treating him. It was beginning to get under his skin.

"I don't," Buttercup narrowed her eyes at the redhead before grinning mischievously. "But I'm sure if you told Blossom about your predicament, she wouldn't mind buying food for her _side piece_."

"What are you—"

"Hey guys," Blossom greeted with Butch, Bubbles, and Boomer―who each held a tray full of food with the exception of Blossom―right behind her. The three took a seat at the table while Blossom remained standing at the head of the table. "So I have news to share…" she paused, glancing at her friends to build suspense.

Buttercup furrowed her eyebrows, motioning for Blossom to continue. "And?"

Blossom inhaled deeply at Buttercup ruining her moment.

"My dad felt guilty about me not being able to visit during the holidays," she rolled her eyes, knowing exactly that her dad did not truly feel any sense of remorse. It was just another excuse to satisfy her to leave him alone. "So he's allowing me to rent out one of those mansion's in the Groove for a New Year's Eve party," she announced excitedly. Blossom observed her friends' reactions, her spirits flattening at the lack of emotion from them.

"What's "the Groove"?" Brick questioned.

"It's the rich area of Townsville," Butch answered. "It's where Him lives."

Brick nodded as a reply, darting his eyes back to Blossom, finding it suspicious that she wanted to throw a party last minute, "Not to be rude, but why would we want to throw a party?"

"You mean _another_ one," Buttercup pointed out. "Wasn't Christmas enough for you, Pinky? Butch drank so much, he passed out on the beer pong table."

"Oh yeah," Butch smirked, chuckling at the memory.

Blossom slapped his wrist, letting him know how she disapproved of the behavior. She was worried on how his actions may reflect onto her. "You know I don't put up with that kind of behavior."

Butch's grin swiftly disappeared, "Which is why it will _never_ happen again."

Blossom smiled softly, rubbing his shoulder, "Good choice."

"I agree with Buttercup," Bubbles added, returning to the topic at hand. "I love partying as much as the next girl, but having to entertain the entire school again will be exhausting."

"We don't have to invite everyone," Blossom shrugged.

"Isn't that a little mean?" Boomer asked.

"No. It's just something that happens."

"So what? It will just be the six of us in a million dollar mansion?" Buttercup inquired, displaying her disapproval throughout her face. "That sounds depressing, honestly."

Blossom shook her head, "No. We'll invite our friends."

"Does that mean "friends" that we actually like or "friends" that we talk to because they're available?" Buttercup asked.

"Friends that are available," Blossom sighed. This was a lot harder than she thought. She surely thought once everyone heard about a party, they would be all gung-ho about the opportunity. "So it wouldn't just be the six of us."

"In my book, it would be five of us," Buttercup responded, glaring at Brick.

Brick folded his eyebrows, "You're just on a roll this morning, aren't you?"

Buttercup shrugged her shoulders, "Someone has to put you in your place."

"What is that suppose to mean?"

" _So_ about the party," Blossom spoke over the two, stopping their arguing from furthering on. "Are you in or not?"

Bubbles and Boomer glanced at each other, seeming to speak telepathically on an answer.

"We're in," Boomer grinned.

"Butch?"

"I'll do whatever you want, babe," Butch smiled, kissing Blossom's hand that laid on his shoulder.

Blossom returned the smile for a brief second before focusing her attention on Buttercup and Brick.

"You two?"

"I guess it gives me something to do," Buttercup replied, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah. I'm in," Brick said―which was really him saying that he was only into the idea because of her―meeting Blossom's pink eyes. Blossom understood what he truly meant, avoiding any further eye contact with him.

"Great," Blossom clapped. "I'll let my dad know—But first, I'm going to get some breakfast."

"I'll go with you," Brick announced, seizing the opportunity to be alone with Blossom, quickly rising to his feet.

"Oh. Um—"

"You already have breakfast, wonder-bread," Buttercup pointed out, narrowing her eyes at him. She glanced at Butch, expecting him to be seething or at least suspicious. Instead, the green-eyed male was munching on a piece of microwave bacon from his tray.

Brick raised an eyebrow at the nickname, "I don't need to explain this to you but I need to get hot sauce to make these eggs taste better. Anything to mask whatever the fuck that flavor is, the better," he said, joining Blossom's side. Buttercup searched Blossom's face for any clues on why Brick was so eager to separate away from the group, but the redhead was unable to meet her eye.

Blossom quickly left the area, which containing the temporary table for the group, heading straight for the food line with Brick trailing along. Once in line, she grabbed a tray, focusing her attention on the food selection before her instead of the company she had.

Brick raised a curious eyebrow at this, speaking lowly to her about his suspicions, "You're not planning this party to… You know…"

"No. Of course not," she lied softly, grabbing a plate of toast.

"Bloss…"

"I'm not, Brick."

"So you're not doing this to avoid our discussion?"

"Do I have to answer this for the third time?" Blossom snapped, meeting his eyes, only to send him daggers.

Brick put his hands up cautiously, "I'm only asking because you always seem to have some ulterior motive."

Blossom softened her expression for a brief second.

He was right.

She was using the party as an excuse to not discuss their relationship. She has not made up her mind, and she did not want to disappoint Brick. She felt he deserved better than her uncertainty, and yet, she would not let herself cut him loose.

Buttercup was right those few weeks ago. Blossom wanted Brick all to herself. She wanted his affections. His attention. Anything from him, she wanted. It was selfish and greedy of her, but she could not stop it from happening.

And there was Butch...

She loves Butch. What she felt for Brick… It definitely was not love. Could it get there? She was not sure. It was up to her to make that decision as she knew if she let it, Brick would allow himself to fall in love with her.

Did she want that?

Did she want Brick's love?

Or was Butch's enough?

She was not sure. Every time she thought about it, Blossom only got more confused. She just wished they would make the decision easier. She wished Brick would do something shitty to her, or that Butch would break up with her. Something at least to make things more clear cut so she did not really have to make a decision. She wanted it made for her.

It was funny. Her whole life, she hated the fact that her parents constantly made decisions about every aspect of her life without her consent, and yet, here she was begging the universe to do the same for her.

It was pathetic.

She forced smirk, easing the tension around the two, "I guess you'll have to wait and see at the party to find out for yourself."

* * *

"I think we have some leftover boozes from the Christmas party," Butch suggested as the group was trying to organize the objectives needed for their most recent endeavor.

"How?" Brick questioned. "The entire campus was there and almost everyone there drank their entire body weight."

"I kept a secret stash," Butch shrugged. "In the case of emergency."

"Way to be prepared, Butch," Buttercup deadpanned.

Butch flashed a grin at the green-eyed girl, resulting in her to furrow her eyebrows in confusion. "Always gotta be prepared, Buttercup."

"Okay?"

"So what about the house?" Bubbles asked, flickering her eyes to Blossom. "What is it like?"

"It's a two story mansion on top of this hill," Blossom described, pulling out her phone. Typing in her password, she continued, "I have pictures of it—"

"Oh God, what are you guys doing in here?" Dee Dee questioned, standing in front of the group of six's table, her blue eyes widened in shock.

"Um… eating breakfast," Boomer answered, lifting his spoon full of oatmeal to further his reasoning.

"Well duh," Dee Dee replied. "I just figured you would be in the courtyard."

"Why would we?"

"Princess and Ace are having a blowout fight," Dee Dee replied. "It's almost like Buttercup and Butch's fight from last spring—except, you know, less intense."

"Okay. One day, all of you really need to sit me down and tell me all the shit that has happened in the last three years," Brick huffed, frustrated by his ever lacking knowledge of past events at the Academy.

The rest of table glanced at him, each either ranging from sympathy to indifference.

"So Princess and Ace, you said?" Buttercup inquired, ignoring Brick's displeasure.

Dee Dee nodded, "It's been going on for fifteen minutes now. If we're lucky, we would be able to get the end of it if we go now."

Buttercup eagerly rose to her feet, "I don't know about you guys, but I always love fights that doesn't involve me, so…"

"I'm going, too," Boomer announced.

"Boomy. I don't—"

"Bubs. This is the fight of the year. I'm not missing it."

Bubbles sighed in defeat, "Then I'll go too."

"We're all going," Blossom decided, raising to her feet. "The amount of dirt they're going to sling at each other is too precious and I need all of your ears for it."

"So nosey," Buttercup teased, pushing open a door leading out of the mess hall and holding it open for the rest of the group and Dee Dee.

The group, plus Dee Dee, headed towards the fountain of the courtyard to view the fight—which already acquired a large audience. Buttercup pushed her way through to the front of the crowd with Blossom and Butch following right behind her. The other three remained back due to Bubbles' objections.

"You're delusional, Ace," Princess hissed, her face a deep red from their arguing. "I never tried to ruin you."

"Then why is this happening, huh? You just wanted me out of the picture so you can be the only one causing trouble here" Ace accused. "You're just fucking jealous because I am more infamous than you."

"What?" the redhead cackled. "You think I would ever be jealous of a low life like you? Ha. Give me a break."

Ace tightened his jaw, glaring at the freckled-face female, "You're only laughing because you know I'm right."

"No, Ace," she responded, still laughing. "You're dead wrong, but I am glad that your ass is getting kicked out now, so I don't have to deal with the desperation that seeps off from you."

The crowd began to make a commotion, asking each other if they heard Princess right. Only one question could be heard throughout.

 _Ace was getting kicked out?_

"Holy shit," Buttercup mumbled to herself, glancing at Blossom and Butch for their reactions. The couple did not display any emotions, staring into each other's eyes as if they were communicating silently.

Blossom looked away from his gaze, noting the dissolve of the crowd. "Looks like it's over," she pointed out. "We should go back to the mess hall."

Buttercup flickered her eyes to Butch, meeting his emerald eyes to ask him why Blossom was dismissing the situation as she walked through the crowd once again, away from them. Butch shrugged his shoulders, turning on his heels to follow his girlfriend.

"Butch!"

The dark-haired male cringed at the sound of his name being called out but saving face as he turned to find his somewhat friend standing in front of him.

"Ace, what's up?"

"I'm sure you just saw," he frowned.

Butch nodded, "Yeah, not a pretty sight."

"I know," Ace huffed. "And now everyone knows about me getting kicked out."

"Sorry man."

"It's whatever…" he trailed off. "But you know what would be fucking great? If we went into town for this bar I know. They don't check for ID or anything."

"Um…" Butch paused, trying to find his words careful but deciding to rather be brash instead. "Yeah. That's not going to happen."

"And why the fuck not?" Ace scoffed.

"Because you're a shitty person and I _can't_ to be associated with you," Butch confessed.

Ace's face twisted in betrayal, "But I thought we were friends?"

"We are," he responded. "But we're different people now… I hope you can get your life together, Ace," Butch finished, meaning what he said. Ace was a terrible person but Butch only wished the best for him in life. However, it did not mean the lanky teen was not getting everything he deserved for all the shit he has pulled over the past three years.

Ace stood in shock as he watched Butch turn his back towards him and walked away. He could not believe anything the green-eyed male had just said. It did not make sense since Butch and him had been on good terms just a few days ago.

It was like someone had gotten into his friend's head.

Ace furrowed his eyebrows in disgusted as his mind finally put the pieces together towards everything that has happened in the past three weeks. It was such a clear and obvious answer, yet he was ignorant to the truth.

This had Blossom's name written all over it.

* * *

"Don't you think we should leave now?" Buttercup questioned, glancing at the time on her phone. "It's almost 11."

"There's nothing wrong with being fashionably late," Blossom answered from the bathroom as she grabbed a strand of her hair and clamping a hair-straighter down on it.

"That excuse wore off two hours ago when the party actually started," Buttercup replied, walking over from her bed to the bathroom and leaning against the doorframe. She watched as Blossom repeated the same motion.

Clamp. Straighten. Clamp. Straighten. Clamp.

"You okay?" the redhead asked, casting Buttercup a worried eye. "You've been kind of spacey lately."

"No, I haven't," Buttercup scoffed.

Blossom raised an eyebrow, separating her hair for a new patch to straighten. "Or you've been ultra defensive."

Buttercup puffed at the remark, rolling her eyes, "You're crazy."

"Am I?" Blossom paused her hair straightening, pointing the iron at Buttercup, "Or is there something bothering you?"

Buttercup blinked at her roommate, not wanting to answer her question. She has yet to tell Blossom about her break up with Mitch due to the embarrassment of looking like a failure. It was easy for her to tell Bubbles about it because she was all liquored up but also because Bubbles is less judgemental.

Blossom may be Buttercup's best friend, but Blossom had a habit of relishing in other's misfortunes because it made her appear better. It was just another thing to make her have an even more perfect appearance. If everyone else's life was falling apart, no one will notice the cracks in the foundation of her own.

Buttercup, however, did not necessarily know all of this. She only knew that Blossom wanted to present herself to be perfect and giving her bad news, well, did not make Buttercup feel great about herself. Blossom always had a way to get under Buttercup's thick skin, a fact that disgusted her in all senses but could not put to an end to.

She knew Blossom was not the perfect person everyone made her out to be, and yet, Buttercup was still envious and somewhat insecure of her.

"Hello? Buttercup?" Blossom said, snapping Buttercup out of her thoughts. The redhead flickered her eyes to her roommate and then to the mirror, continuing with her hair routine. "You sure you're okay?"

Buttercup sighed, shifting her weight. "I just have a lot on my mind. That's all."

"Same," Blossom added, feeling her stomach twist in knots at the thought.

"I've just…" Buttercup paused, inhaling and exhaling deeply, "Been dealing with a weird mixture of emotions and…"

Buttercup continued opening up to Blossom, informing her of her break up despite her reservations. However, she was not being heard as Blossom was lost in her own world, not paying attention to anything Buttercup was saying.

Instead, Blossom was preoccupied with her thoughts of what might occur tonight. She was stalling on purpose to avoid there being much time for Brick to corner her before midnight to discuss their "relationship". She wanted to get there at least twenty or so minutes before midnight, therefore, there would not be any time.

It was the best way to prevent them from talking. It was the only way to avoid anyone getting hurt, disappointed, or them getting pissed at each other.

She did feel repulsed by her actions, however. She hated feeling like a coward and not owning up to her promise.

She really could not see what he saw in her by now. All she has done was torture him with the idea of them together and then take it away each and every time. She did not understand how he could be okay with her behavior, especially when he wants to date her. It did not make sense.

Blossom knew her worth but she did not think she was worthy of Brick.

She was never a good person. She will never be a good person as much as she tried to change that fact about herself. She was a reflection of how she was raised and the teaching of her parents. There was not nothing she could change.

Butch, of course, did not notice because he was still captivated by the perfect image of her. He liked the idea of her. She knew he loves her more than anything but Blossom was also aware that his perception of her would change vastly if she told him all her sins. Perhaps for the worst.

Now Brick. He was in the dark like Butch was, however, Brick was more perceptive. He called her out on shit that Butch would not. Butch only gets frustrated by Blossom's habit of nitpicking—a trait she picked up from her mother. Brick can tell when Blossom was lying. He knew her love of self-superiority and attention. He was aware of some of her selfish desires. And yet, he still wanted her.

Perhaps, Brick was not who everyone interpreted him to be either. A normal person would not find those traits desirable. A good person would not want her so badly. There was no way Brick was the kind and charming person he presented himself to be to everyone else. And some way, Blossom already knew this.

Would a good person be chasing after their friend's girlfriend?

Nor display any sense of guilt or remorse?

It all made sense—

"Are you even listening?" Buttercup exploded. Blossom blinked at her roommate, freeing herself from the thoughts lingering on her mind. Buttercup scowled at her, seething at the very existences of the redhead. "You're fucking unbelievable."

"Huh?" Blossom said involuntarily. She did not realize she said it until the noise lingered in the confined space.

Buttercup furrowed her eyebrows, "Of course! I open up to you and then you're too self-involved to even listen."

"Buttercup—"

"I should have known this shit was going to happen," Buttercup huffed, disappearing from the bathroom's doorway.

Blossom placed her straighter on the bathroom counter, following Buttercup's actions. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know what the fuck is up with you lately," Buttercup began, pushing Blossom out of the way towards the door. "But you've changed for the worst. You're so fucking shady and self-absorbed, it's sickening."

Blossom blinked at Buttercup, feeling the sharp wound to her ego.

"I—"

"I don't want to hear it, Blossom."

Buttercup stared at her for a good minute, searching for the Blossom she once knew. The intelligent, reserved, and confident Blossom. The one who had her friends' backs no matter what and loved her boyfriend. The person who resented what her parents wanted her to be. Not this untrustworthy and egotistical person who let popularity get to her head.

Buttercup opened their door, throwing one more glance at Blossom.

"I don't know who you are anymore," Buttercup whispered, shutting the door behind her.

* * *

The mansion Blossom had rented for the night was located on a large hill, only accessible by a 15-minute walk up a gravel pathway. Inside the house, the entertainment area for the party was a spacious living room that acquired modern furniture—the choice of white fabrics, however, were surely going to have various different colored stains by the end of the night—and the backyard. The living room was filled with cool-colored strobe lights, giving off purple and blue shadows with _Chance the Rappe_ r blaring throughout the house.

The space lead to a deck that wrapped around the entire house which was seen by the glass walls of the back of the house. The deck was full of students as they surrounded the area for the beer kegs that were purchased for the party. A pool was in the middle of the deck but no one—unless they were extremely drunk or pushed in—dared to go into because of the chilly temperature.

There was also the regal kitchen which was filled with various types of pizzas, alcohol, and other snacks. However, that area had lost a majority of foot traffic due to the food being mostly eaten by now.

All rooms upstairs were banned according to Blossom's rules she sent out in the morning, but there was a basement that contained two bathrooms and a dance floor. There was also a media room that was adjacent from the kitchen.

Needless to say, Buttercup was both impressed and disgusted when she walked into the party two and half hours late. The architecture of the house was breathtaking but the current usage of the home ruined its grand appeal. Especially with the amount of broken furniture Buttercup could spot by just being in the house for two minutes. There was also an unpleasant smell of alcohol and vomit already.

"Butters, you made it," Bubbles yelled happily across the living room, rushing over to the green-eyed girl. The blonde wrapped her into a quick but tight hug, pulling away only to give Buttercup sympathetic eyes when noticing the mixture of sorrow and frustration on her friend's face. "What happened? Where's Blossom?"

"We got in a fight," Buttercup huffed, brushing few pieces of hair out of her face.

"About?"

"Her being selfish and how different she's been lately."

"Oh." Bubbles shifted her weight, disappointed with her redhead friend. She placed her hand on Buttercup's shoulder, meeting her eyes, "I'm sure she'll—"

"Hold on, Bubs," Buttercup interrupted, craning her neck around the blonde's body due to an individual catching her eye. Her eyebrows furrowed at the sight, tightening her jaw and forming a fist. "Why is Robin here?" she pointed out.

"I invited her." Bubbles briefly glanced back to the brunette. "She _is_ one of my friends."

"And did you know she was going to bring fucking Mitch?" she fumed.

Bubbles snapped her head back around, only to find Robin holding hands with Mitch. Her eyes widened in fear, "Buttercup, I had no idea."

Buttercup did not respond to the blonde, simply glaring at her as she walked over to the new couple.

"Hey Mitch," she said flatly, interrupting the conversation between the two, folding her arms and staring deep into the two brunettes' soul.

" _Hey Buttercup_ ," he croaked. His face becoming an intense shade of red as he pulled on the collar of his shirt. "How are you?"

"Fine."

"That's great—"

"So I'm guessing this is why we weren't working out?" Buttercup interjected, meeting Robin's eyes, making the girl tremble in fear

"I, um, I—"

"Enjoy dating a liar, Robin," Buttercup seethed, knocking into Mitch's shoulder as she walked past the couple and towards the kitchen.

First Blossom, and now this. She needed to relieve herself or she was going to explode from anger—and that was not how she wanted to go into the new year. Making a beeline for the kitchen, Buttercup knew of one thing that will help again—alcohol.

Entering the doorway of the kitchen, she greeted by a backwards red hat and their back facing towards her as the person grabbed one of the last slices of pepperoni pizza. Scrunching her nose in disgust, Buttercup backed out of the room before Brick noticed her. The last thing she needed was to deal with him. If she did, it was not going to be so pretty for the redhead.

She decided to wait until he left the room to get what she needed, heading into the media room across from the kitchen to wait. Her eyes blinked repeatedly, adjusting to the brightness of the large flat screen mounted onto the wall contrasting with surrounding darkness of the room. Leaning against the back wall, she watched from behind the couch as two males played a round of the latest _Mortal Kombat_ game.

"Dammit," one of the players whined as the battle ended, their character having been defeated. Buttercup's ear perked up at the voice, instantly recognizing it as Boomer.

"That's five to one," the other bragged with a lisp, which revealed to her that it was Dexter.

"I think you cheated."

"I did not."

"Yes. You obviously did."

"How?"

"I don't know. You hacked the game or something."

"How can I hack the game when I'm in the middle of playing it?"

"I don't know. You're the genius."

"Well—"

The two turned their heads to the back of the room when they heard Buttercup's light chuckling—she found their banter to be humorous. Boomer smirked at her while Dexter stared at her indifferently.

"Hey, Butters. What are you doing here?"

"Needed a break from the party."

Boomer frowned, motioning for her to the couch, "Come. Sit." She did as he ordered, taking a seat next to him on the plush couch in the room. He threw Dexter a glance, asking him to give them a minute silently. Dexter nodded, excusing himself to the bathroom. Boomer mouthed thank you to him, turning his attention to his dark-haired friend, nudging her shoulder. "You know Bubs told me about… you know... You and Mitch."

"I figured," Buttercup sighed, rolling her eyes. "I bet she didn't tell you about his new girlfriend though?"

"You mean Robin?"

Buttercup nodded, raising an eyebrow in surprise. Bubbles did not even know about the fact. "How do you—"

"Dee Dee accidentally told me yesterday. Made me swear that I'll keep it a secret or Robin will be a pain in her ass."

"Dee Dee said _ass_?"

"No," Boomer grinned. "I'm just summarizing... Anyways, I wanted to tell you and Bubs, but I promised Dee Dee, and..."

"I get it, Boom. You were just trying to be a good friend—which is what you always are."

"Thanks," he smiled but dropped it quickly when taking in the misery that expressed on Buttercup's face. "You're not taking everything well, are you?"

"No…" Buttercup muttered, tightening her fists again. "I just want to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze the life out of him."

"I don't think that's legal, Buttercup."

She let out a small chuckle. "It's not… but it would make me feel a whole lot better."

"That's only because you're withholding a lot of your anger."

"Yeah, I guess..."

"I did that a lot as a kid," Boomer confessed. "It only added onto my rage. Once I decided to work on my problem, I tried to find different outlets to express my anger. Like surfing and meditating, for example."

"If this another way to get me into Buddhism—"

"It's not," Boomer answered. "I'm simply saying you need to find an outlet."

Buttercup rolled her eyes but did take in consideration what he was saying. Sighing deeply, she spoke, "Soccer usually helps me but that's not for another two months."

Boomer glanced at the TV as Dexter re-entered the room and taking his place on the couch. "What about video games?" he suggested. "That also helped me a lot too."

Buttercup mulled over his offer, smirking, "That could work."

"Great," Boomer smiled, handing over his controller. "You can take over for me since I need to go hang out with Bubs for awhile.

"Thank you, Boomer," Buttercup smiled as Boomer rose to his feet.

"What?" Dexter chimed. "You can't leave me with her."

"Come on, Dex. She wouldn't bite."

Dexter threw a cautious glance at the girl as she shrugged her shoulders. "No promises," she teased.

"Boomer."

"She's kidding," Boomer laughed, exiting the room.

The two remaining in the room glanced at each other, unsure of what to do.

"So…" Buttercup said, breaking the silence. "How many times do you think I can kick your ass?"

"I'm not going to answer that question because it's not even plausible," Dexter grinned.

"Let's see about that, _Poindexter_."

* * *

Skimming through the crowd and chugging his eighth beer of the night, Butch was searching for his beautiful girlfriend. She, however, was nowhere to be found.

"Have anyone of guys seen Blossom?" he inquired, his speech a little slurred. The group of four he approached—two of whom he recognized were from Bubbles' art club—shook their head no.

"Haven't seen her all night," Elmer replied. "Isn't this her party though? Shouldn't she be hosting?"

Butch did not answer, moving to another group to ask the same question. And then another group and another and another. Each with the same answer.

They have not seen Blossom at all and had lingering thoughts on how it was strange.

Frustrated by the unknown whereabouts of his girlfriend, Butch decided to get his mind off of it before it ruined his New Year's Eve.

"Who wants to do keg stands outside?" he shouted out to the house full of people. A few eagerly raised their hand, following him out the glass doors.

Little did he know, a proximity a minute after his announcement and retreat to the backyard, Blossom finally showed up to the party.

Taking off her cashmere coat—revealing the hot pink mini-dress she wore underneath—and hanging it onto the nearby coat rack, she inhaled sharply, glad that no one noticed her enter. It was exactly fifteen minutes until midnight. The perfect amount of time allotted for her to avoid Brick, kiss Butch by the time the clock struck 12, and then rush back to her dorm.

To further the decision to steer away from Brick, Blossom headed straight to the kitchen. With the majority of the booze outside and the fact that the food they ordered for the party was most likely depleted given the amount of time that has transpired since it arrived, Blossom was sure no one would be in the area.

Blossom smiled softly, entering the open space kitchen, keeping her eyes downcasted to the counters, appreciating the craftsmanship. She glided the tips of her fingers on the cold, black marble of the countertops, estimating the hefty price tag they must have. It had to be imported, she determined. Little things like this excited her, due to her love of luxury. It was a passion—

"Hey, Bloss."

Blossom's eyes snapped away from the marble, gazing up to across the kitchen to find Brick sitting on the countertop, a half-eaten pizza and a paper plate in hand.

Just her luck.

" _Hey_..."

"Did you just get here?" he questioned, putting his plate of pizza down on the counter.

"Yeah."

Brick cocked his eyebrow, "Interesting."

"Yeah. I guess…"

"So, um…" he rubbed the back of his neck. He met her eyes, seeing the reluctance in them. He sighed, hanging his head in defeat. He could already determine how their conversation was going to end, "We should talk."

Blossom nodded hesitantly, "Yeah… we should." She shifted her weight, pointing upwards, "Room upstairs?" she suggested.

"Sure."

Brick jumped down from the countertop, grabbing a napkin to wipe off the grease of the pizza from his hands, and following Blossom out of the kitchen. They—seemingly went unnoticed—crept their way up the large staircase. Blossom chose the room furthest from the stairs, in the case of any rulebreaking eavesdroppers. Opening the door, they soon discovered they had found the master bedroom of the house.

After closing the door behind them, Blossom wanted to avoid anything to do with the luxurious king-sized bed in the room, going straight for the doors to the balcony that room was equipped with. Opening the French doors, a chilling breeze infiltrated her body, sending goosebumps all over her skin. She walked over to the railing of the balcony, gazing down at the sight below. The balcony had a view of a nearby lake but also was a blind spot from the backyard or neighbors, allowing the approximate amount of privacy needed.

Blossom pushed this fact out her mind as Brick joined her side. He wrapped his hands around the railing, his knuckles becoming white as he tightened his grip out of anxiousness. His eyes remained steady on the reflection of the moonlight on the lake in the distance, formulating the appropriate way to approach this discussion.

"Have you made up your mind?" he asked bluntly, not wanting to beat around the bush anymore.

Blossom exhaled sharply, watching her breath condense in the air. "I have not…"

Brick furrowed his eyebrows, "I thought…"

"I know," Blossom sighed. "But I couldn't make a decision."

"Why not?"

"I just couldn't…"

Brick snorted, his annoyance clear on his face, "It can't be that hard."

"But it is," Blossom argued, narrowing her eyes at him. His crimson eyes were glowing more from the moonlight, making them have a more intense hue than they normally were. "I love Butch—"

"Yet, you're here with me."

"Because you wanted me to," Blossom defended.

"But I'm not your boyfriend," Brick pointed out. "You shouldn't be choosing me over him."

Blossom chuckled darkly to herself, "You're absolutely right. I shouldn't—"

"That's not what I meant, Bloss. I meant—"

"I know what you meant, Brick," Blossom muttered, removing her eyes from him. "I do prioritize you over him too much."

"Don't you think that's a sign?"

"I don't think you should decide that for me."

"Well, I might as well help because you can't decide anything on your own."

"What?" Blossom blinked, taken back by Brick's subtle hostilities.

He flickered his eyes at her, recalling Buttercup's words from the other morning. "I'm not trying to be your side piece, Blossom."

"I get that."

"Then I don't know what I'm supposed to do," he exasperated.

"Not make me feel pressured to make a decision," Blossom argued, folding her arms. She turned her body away from the railing and towards him. He did the same, towering over her thanks to having a foot in height over her, and staring down at her in frustration.

"Whatever…"

Blossom sighed heavily, loosening the tension in her shoulders, "I know that you're not going to be happy with my decision—"

"Of course, I'm not fucking happy," he mumbled. Blossom ignored it, continuing.

"But you can't just blame me."

"I don't," he replied firmly. "I'm fucking pissed at myself for thinking it was ever a smart idea to get involved with you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Blossom scoffed, furrowing her eyebrows.

"You have no fucking clue what you want, Blossom," Brick pointed out, matching her expression. "At anything in life. You're so wishy-washy, it's insane."

"Excuse me?"

Brick read her face, taking in how it contorted in anger. If he was not irritated at her, he would have found it cute how she looked.

He softened his expression, shoving his hands in his pockets. Brick needed to remember that he expected this when he first thought to pursue Blossom. He needed to realize there was still a chance of him being rejected even if Blossom did share the same feelings. Brick also knew he could not force her to make a decision.

He needed to overcome the fact that if Blossom did not make up her mind by now, then she was possibly not going to. It was just a waste of time and hope for them to continue any further.

"I don't want to fight," Brick spoke lightly.

Blossom eased her glare, "I don't either—"

"I think it's best if we just pretended none of this happened," he said, avoiding her eyes as he stared out to the lake.

"What?" she blinked as her heart sunk, her mind trying to comprehend what he was saying. "What are you suggesting?"

"I'm saying it's best that we don't acknowledge how we feel about each other."

"You want us to act like we don't have feelings for each other?"

He nodded reluctantly, "Yup." Darting his eyes, he met hers', motioning the space between them with his finger. "This. This never happened," Brick determined. "Whatever it was. It never happened." He paused, frowning greatly, "...And it never will."

Blossom stood in silence, trying to digest what was happening. Was this the universe's way of deciding for her? If it was, Blossom could not deny how deeply dissatisfied she felt. She did not want things to end—she realized she craved more from him now. Blossom just did not know how to express it.

Brick waited for her to respond, hanging on to the small hope that she would reject his idea.

However, he was met with disappointment as she did not speak up. He sighed, deciding to leave the situation before he got more frustrated and took it out on her.

Blossom's eyes widened at his action, not wanting for him to leave. She swiftly grabbed his wrist as he entered back into the bedroom. He twisted his body around, glancing at Blossom's hand as she arched her upper back against the wall.

"Bloss…"

"Shhh," she responded, pulling him closer to her. With only a few inches between the two, Blossom stood on her tippy toes—an easy task for her thanks to years of training in ballet—and cupping her delicate hands on his cheeks, bring him down to her eyesight.

She examined his face, noting the faint amount of freckles that laid on the bridge of his nose. The darker tone his eyebrows possessed over the copper hair on his head. How the iris' of his eyes had more of a burgundy shade on the outer edges that subtlety became his consuming crimson color. Finally, the way his mouth twisted up in a smirk on the upper right side first before becoming a full blown smile—which is what he was doing at the moment.

Just like with Butch, these small things convinced Blossom that she could be honest with Brick.

Brick raised a curious eyebrow at her, not being able to control his smiling. "Bloss, what are you—"

She rubbed her thumb against his mouth, signaling for him to stop talking. He did so, waiting for her to say something.

"I do know one thing I want," she whispered softly.

"Yeah?" he grinned. "What is that?"

"I want you to kiss me, Brick."

Brick's eyes widened at the order, "I—"

Before he could speak, Blossom pressed her lips against his. Startled by the sudden change of events, Brick pulled away, scanning her face in astonishment.

Blossom stared at his shocked face, biting down on her bottom lip out of embarrassment, "Brick. I'm sorry," she sighed. "I shouldn't—"

"Shhh," he said, pushing her fully into the wall. Brick met her lips, kissing her passionately, pressing his skin against her's. Blossom responded with the same amount of emotion. She moved her hands from his face to his hair, running her fingers through the copper locks and pushing his hat off his head. Neither of them acknowledged the sound of the hat falling onto the tiled floor as they were too consumed by the moment.

Brick began moving his lips with more urgency, lifting her up to place her hips on his waist as her dress began to ride up her thighs. He firmly digged his fingers into the soft, milky skin of her thighs, as months worth of pended up sexual tension and desires became full-bloomed. Blossom started running her hands along his chest, feeling out the muscles that were contained underneath his loose cotton shirt.

The two broke apart when they were interrupted by a popping noise in the distance, only to see the sky lit up in an array of fiery colors.

"Fireworks," she whispered absentmindedly.

"Which means…"

"Happy New Year, Brick," she purred.

" _Happy New Year indeed_ ," Brick grinned, softly kissing Blossom through a smile. He lifted his head up to appreciate her beauty in the lighting thanks to the fireworks but she pulled his head back down, pressing her lips against him roughly, letting him know what she truly wanted.

What she really craved.

Fiddling with the hem of his shirt, slowly easing it up his muscular back, Blossom's mind was consumed with the thought of furthering their actions.

* * *

However, unknowing to the two redheads, the door to the room was cracked open with a curious eye peeking in. Their face twisted in shock as they had a perfect view of the scandal before them. At the realization of what was happening, the person grinned wickedly, noting that this moment will come in handy soon enough.

* * *

"Did you guys miss the countdown?" Boomer questioned as he entered the media room once again to find Buttercup and Dexter in mid-fight digitally.

"Yeah," Buttercup replied absentmindedly, her tongue sticking out in concentration.

"Well, Happy New Year then," Boomer smiled, leaning forward against the back of the couch in which the two sat on.

Dexter raised an eyebrow, pausing the game, "We missed the countdown?"

"I just said you did," the blond responded confusingly, sounding more like a question.

Glancing down at the watch he wore on his wrist, Dexter's eyes widened, "Darnit. I must get to my room now," he announced, rising from the couch and forfitting the round by exiting out of the fight.

"Um. I wasn't done kicking your ass," Buttercup retorted.

"I'm sorry, but I must go now if I want to get an appropriate amount of sleep that wouldn't interrupt my Circadian rhythm."

"Like the bugs?" Boomer questioned. Buttercup and Dexter glanced at each other, sighing.

"No, Boomer."

"I think you're wrong," he argued, darting out the room. "I'm going to ask Bubbles."

Buttercup chuckled lightly to herself at her friend's dimwit nature. She then flickered her eyes at Dexter, watching him get up from the couch.

"Hey, Dexter…"

The ginger raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"I'm sure you somewhat know what Boomer and I were discussing, and why he wanted to me to play."

"I may," Dexter smiled sheeplishly.

"Well, I just want to say... Thanks…" she sighed, not believing what she was saying. "For, you know, being there… and letting me get my anger out."

"Oh…" Dexter blinked, caught off guard by the green-eyed girl's actions. It was a rare event when Buttercup gave gratitude towards anyone. From this fact, the redhead could not help the twitch upwards at the corner of his mouth, "No problem. Buttercup… I'm sorry that Mitch is a moron."

Buttercup grinned at the remark, "Me too."

Dexter headed towards the archway that led out of the room but threw one last glance at Buttercup, "If you ever want to play again, you can use Boomer and I's gaming system we have in our room."

Buttercup nodded, appreciating the short ginger's uncharacteristic kindness. "I will."

"Great," Dexter smiled, exiting the room. Buttercup turned off the TV and gaming system. She then followed the same actions as Dexter, except for leaving the party, she went back into the living room full of people in search of her favorite blonde couple.

She did not have to look too hard as they were already walking in her direction thanks to Boomer's want to prove her and Dexter wrong, dragging Bubbles by the hand through the party.

"Hey, where's Dexter?" Boomer questioned when he stood in front of Buttercup, Bubbles right at his side, glancing around the crowd.

"He went home."

"Dammit. I wanted Bubs—"

"Hey. Have you seen Butch lately?" Bubbles asked with concern weaved throughout her voice. "I haven't seen him for an hour now."

"So?" Buttercup scoffed. "You're not his mom."

"I know but he was drunk out of his mind," the blonde acknowledged.

"He always is."

"Not this time," Bubbles said with a serious tone. "This time he looked lost. Like he didn't know who he was or what was going on."

Buttercup chewed down on her bottom lip, not wanting herself to get worried about Butch, "Bubs. I'm sure he's fine."

"I don't know." Bubbles glanced around the room again, "I just—"

"Hey guys," Blossom greeted out of nowhere, popping in between Bubbles and Buttercup. The trio raised an eyebrow at her appearance, noticing the redness in her face, the noticeable wrinkles in her dress, and stray strands of hair out of place—a few pieces were no longer straight due to her sweating. She lacked the refinement that she usually held. A telling sign that something was going on with the redhead.

"Why are so red?" Boomer inquired.

"I was dancing," Blossom replied, not missing a beat.

Buttercup looked her up and down with critical eye. "I don't believe—" Buttercup paused, looking beyond Blossom, narrowing her eyes at the sight of greasy dark hair and a poor hygiene face in the distance. "What the fuck is Ace doing here?"

Blossom snapped her neck around, glaring at the lanky teen. Her and Buttercup unspokenly stomped over to him, both folding their arms when in his presence.

"Why are you here?" Blossom questioned venomously. "This was an invite only party."

"I wanted to crash one more party before I had to leave," he responded coolly, keeping his eyes steady on Blossom—he did not even give any acknowledgment to Buttercup's presence. "Sadly, this one was a big fucking disappointment."

"Tragic," Buttercup deadpanned, not getting a reaction out of Ace.

"Leave. Now." Blossom ordered.

"I was just about to do so," he grinned, moving aside the two girls. However, he paused near Blossom's ear, whispering wickedly to her.

" _I know what you did_."

"What do you mean?" she asked quickly, in a low and harsh tone. Blossom did not get an answer as Ace just smirked at her, walking away to leave the party.

Blossom felt her body begin to clam up at his comment as her mind raced through what he meant. He could not know. There was no way he knew. Right? No one saw anything. She was fine.

So why did she feel like she could not breathe?

"Um, Blossom? Are you okay?"

Blossom blinked rapidly out of the trance she was under, wiping the cold sweat that was accumulating on her forehead. "Yeah," she croaked. "I'm fine."

"You sure?" Buttercup questioned warily.

Blossom nodded, putting on the best poker face she could at the moment, "Yeah. I am… but thanks for caring. I really appreciate—

Buttercup snorted, cutting her off, "Don't start to think we're okay. I'm still pissed at you."

"Buttercup—"

Blossom did not get to finish what she wanted to say as Buttercup turned her back towards her, walking through the crowd of people. The dark-haired girl navigated her way, elbowing her drunken classmates to make room.

She wanted out of this party.

In her mind, this was the worst one she has ever been too. She thought the one from last week was, but it was just the beginning. This one combined her ill feelings towards Mitch, frustrations with Blossom, and Ace's very presence. It was all a toxic combination for her.

Once outside, she took a deep breath of the cool refreshing air, feeling like she was finally able to breathe properly in the last two hours. Buttercup gazed at the path she would walk down from the hill that the mansion was built on, trying to muster up the strength to do so after the emotional exhaustion she acquired from the night.

However, her eyes halted at the sight of a dark lump at the bottom of the hill. Peaked by her curiosity, Buttercup walked down the steep incline without a second thought. She did not even realize that she had enough energy to have do so until she reached the bottom of the hill, glancing up at the length she had just walked.

She reached the lump, discovering it was a grass-stained body. Turning the person over by the shoulder and flashing her phone's light at their face, Buttercup furrowed her eyebrows in shock to find the person to be Butch.

"... _He was drunk out of his mind."_

Bubbles was right. Butch must have passed out without anyone noticing, tumbling down the grassy hill—Blossom had all the snow from last week removed before the party but the ground was still damp and slippery, which is probably why Butch ended up down the hill.

She placed her ear to his chest, checking his breathing to make sure it was stable, and then placed a hand on his face to gain a body temperature. Buttercup released a sigh of relief when determining Butch was breathing normally—just a bit shallower—and was at an average temperature. She could tell he did not have alcohol poisoning from lessons her dad taught her in case of an emergency.

Buttercup debated calling an ambulance to verify her diagnosed but knew it would look terrible if word got out about underage drinking at the Academy. Her mind then went to Blossom but shot that option down immediately. Blossom would be too paranoia about others finding out about Butch's drunken misfortunates and fear that it would reflect negatively onto her. Also, Buttercup did not want to even alarm Blossom given how sketchy she has been acting for the pass few weeks.

Buttercup was left with the choice of calling an _Uber_ to the Academy for the both of them—which was what she did. When the driver arrived, Buttercup lifted Butch up by wrapping his arm around her shoulders, dragging him into the car. Their driver did not say a word, only giving her sympathetic eyes.

She rolled her eyes at this action. The driver must have thought they were a couple, and she was the poor girlfriend who was stuck taking care of her passed out boyfriend.

She cringed at the thought. Buttercup just wanted the car ride to end to avoid any further assumptions.

Once they made it to the Academy's campus, Buttercup took the same position as before, dragging Butch by her shoulders to his dorm—thank God for all the weight training she did or this would not be possible.

Reaching into his pockets, she found his room key, unlocking the door and setting him onto his bed. She grabbed the trash can in his bathroom, placing it beside his bed in case he woke up needing to vomit. Taking off his shoes and grabbing a blanket that laid on the floor—Butch did not make his bed the morning before, leaving his bed a wreck—to drape over him, Buttercup noticed a large gash on his forearm he acquired from falling. The blood around the wound was dried up, giving her the knowledge that Butch was on the bottom of the hill for a good amount of time.

She gritted her teeth at the thought, returning to the bathroom to attain a wet towel to clean the wound. Wiping away the blood, Buttercup could not help thinking about the lack of empathy her classmates must have. None of them went looking for Butch when he disappeared. No one probably questioned it—except for Bubbles. No one cared about him.

She may have dismissed Bubbles concerns before because she believed Butch was up to his usual frat-boy-like-antics, but now knowing what really happened, Buttercup was pissed. Her classmates were shitty people—and she was one of them too. She did not care at first, and yet, here she was being a hypocrite for judging everyone else too.

Buttercup exhaled heavily at the acknowledgment, removing the wet cloth from Butch's tan skin. Taking the blanket again, Buttercup tucked it around his body. Once Buttercup was done, she paused, hovering over his bed. She flicked a few strands of his curly hair out of his face.

She stroked her thumb against the skin of his forehead. She furrowed her eyebrows, taking in the fact that she never noticed the small cut in his right eyebrow, forgoing any hair growth in the area. How did she never noticed this before?

In this state, he was so serene and sorta cute—Buttercup shook her head, gagging at thought, disgusted for even letting it get in her mind. She took a step back, accidentally hitting the heel of her foot on the trash can near his bed, producing a loud noise as the it tipped over to it's side.

"Fuck..." she murmured, bending down to flip it back up. She quickly stood up when she heard a light groan come from Butch.

"Butt… Buttercup?" he whispered hoarsely, his eyes barely fluttering open.

"Get some rest, Butch," Buttercup muttered softly. He did as she ordered while she waited to make sure he was asleep. After checking his breathing again, Buttercup left the room before Brick showed up or he woke up again.

She felt guilty about leaving him alone but Buttercup knew it was for the best.

Butch would not remember anything in the morning. He would not remember the party. He would have no recollection of how much he drank. Nor would he know about his tumble down the hill.

More importantly, he would have no memory of what she did for him.

It was better that way, she believed. He would want it that way.

* * *

 **Author's notes:**

 **With this chapter, we are done with Act 1 of this story. Yay!**

 **I promise the next part will have even more drama. I can't wait to share what I have planned next and I hope you'll enjoy it. Thank you for all the support!**


	13. Don't Stick To The Status Quo

"Ah. It's so nice to see all your lovely faces once again," Ms. Keane smiled to her full classroom. The enthusiasm was not met by her students, who stared blankly at her. "So how was everyone's break?"

"Shitty," Buttercup answered, glancing back at Mitch to give him a dirty look. The brunet sunk into his seat in attempt to avoid the stares from the rest of the class.

"Anyone else?" Ms. Keane questioned, brushing off Buttercup's response. Glancing around the room, she sighed in defeat when no one else wanted to voice their opinion. "Alright then. Let's move on to your latest assignment."

"One day back and we're already getting work?" Butch exasperated. "Come on, Keane. That's not fair."

"Considering every single one of you did not leave this campus for the two weeks used for break―and I heard most of you became a bit stir crazy―you should be happy to have something to preoccupy your time."

"You… have a point," Butch conceded.

Ms. Keane smirked, continuing on with her lesson plans. "This week we will be looking at family bloodlines. We will be doing this by using a website to track down your ancestry, which has been paid for thanks to a generous donation to our school." A few classmates glanced at Blossom at the mention of the school receiving money. "Afterward, you'll be required to write a two-page paper on your findings and also present your most interesting item to the class. But your homework for tonight is to make sure you have your parents' full names beforehand to make the research a lot smoother."

"Ms. Keane?" Bubbles called out, raising her hand.

"Yes?"

"What if we don't know one of our parent's name?"

Ms. Keane smiled softly, "Then maybe this project will help you find out who they are."

"You think so?" Bubbles asked eagerly, a flash of hopefulness in her eyes.

"Yeah, I do," Ms. Keane nodded, gazing around the classroom. "That goes for anyone else who may not be sure where or who they came from."

Blossom peered from the corner of her eye to Brick, wanting to catch his react. She saw his jaw tighten at the thought of Ms. Keane's proposition as he kept a hard expression towards the front of the class. Blossom quickly darted her eyes away before he could notice but she did feel a sense of wanting to comfort him. However, she could not, given recent revelations.

"With that said, I hope everyone will enjoy this project and maybe gain a better understanding of who they are," Ms. Keane smiled.

* * *

Tapping the her tip of her knuckles against the hardwood door, Blossom sucked in a deep breath as she straightened out her stance. As the door cracked open, she braced herself, hoping to avoid any awkward situations. She let out the breath that she did not even know she was holding when red eyes greeted her warmly.

Her mind flash-backed to New Year's. His crimson eyes full of lust and passion as were his kisses. His addictive and warm yet suffocating and toxic kisses, overtaking all types of senses throughout her body. The way the heat from his hands trailed along her body. The goosebumps that formed soon after. His tongue flicked into her mouth and her doing the same him, exploring each other's mouths. The short pants they had to breathe before diving back in eagerly. The sound of him lightly groaning into her mouth as she felt he growing hard against her pelvis. How much she wanted to see what was being held under his jeans. The butterfly kisses he spread across her jawline and the fluttering of her eyes in pleasure. Running her hands across the smooth skin of his back. The way―

"Hey Bloss," he smirked, bringing her back from the trance she was under. It was a good thing he did that. She should not be reminiscing about that night. Her stomach lurched with guilt as she felt the same desire she felt that night but also for what she was about to do. He leaned against the door-frame, eyeing her up and down. She shifted her weight, hearing the sound of running water coming from the dorm room. "What's up?"

"I need to—"

"Yo. Who's at the door?" Butch called out from the shower—Blossom could only assume from the sound coming out of the room.

Brick darted his eyes to Blossom for an answer. She shook her head no, alerting him to not saying anything about her presence.

"Um. It's just Boomer," Brick answered. "He needs help finding his sock again. I'll be back."

They both heard Butch murmur something back but did not pay enough attention to catch what he said as Brick closed the door behind him and entered the hallway with Blossom.

He cocked his eyebrow at her, grinning widely, " _So_ …"

"I… I need to be honest with you," she mumbled, downcasting her eyes and fiddling with her fingers. "I think… I think we should end this."

"What? Why?" Brick questioned. "We literally just started two days ago."

Blossom nodded absentmindedly, acknowledging the short length of time since their act of adultery. "I know but I think it's best if we end things before they get more out of hand."

"I deserve to know why."

"You do," Blossom sighed.

She did not want to admit the reason why she was ending things was because of fear. The fear of everyone finding out.

Ace's words were the only thing replaying in her mind since the party two days ago. What did he know? It was Ace's warning that has installed paranoia into her. If Ace found out, who's to say someone else will not? Not to mention, there was the chance Ace could have told someone before leaving that day. Instead of having to deny anything, Blossom was going to make it a non-existing problem. By ending whatever was going on with Brick, Blossom was presenting Ace as a liar if anyone confronted her about it. It was a simple solution for her paranoia.

Not to mention, it amplified the remorse felt for her actions. If Ace knew, Butch would probably be the first to know. Blossom was terrified of Butch knowing of her cheating. Now that she has physically cheated on him, Blossom could not shake off the enormous amount of shame she felt. She did not want Ace to have a play in the heartbreak that she could have inflected on Butch.

All this lying was taking a toll on her even if it has only been two days of keeping everything a secret. She knew it was not bright to lie to Brick but it felt like it was the only decision she had. She needed to separate herself from him because they were a scandal waiting to happen. Blossom was aware of the lack of self-control she had around him and if she did anything more with him, the remorse she had will fester on until she breakdowns. That was why she needed to end it.

Ace would be happy to know how much his words have wrecked her world as she must destroy any hopes of her and Brick getting together. That she was forced into choosing Butch to ensure the maximum amount of damage control if their secret got out. The way he has made her feel all the worst things a person can say to another. How Ace has awaken her to how messed up she has become in past couple of years by living in the fantasy that she was invincible. He pointed out how much she has been in course of tarnishing her perfect reputation on her own with barely any thought to it.

And the funny thing was, Blossom was starting not to care. She was slowly starting to not want to be perfect. It was exhausting and she was never truly happy. Blossom needed to grow comfortable with the thought but she was accepting it now, and yet, a new thought entered her mind.

How much of a horrendous person she was. The person she has become. How she has played with the heart of two good guys and will cause heartbreak for the both of them with any decision she makes.

She was disappointed in herself. Just like her parents have always been. She now saw what they saw.

"So?" he asked irritably. "What is it?

"I… It's not right for this to continue," she lied. She knew that if she told him the reasoning, he would find a way to persuade her otherwise. He always seemed to find a way to captivate her. "I still have a boyfriend."

Brick furrowed his eyebrows in anger, "I thought that detail would have changed after everything that happened."

"Well, it didn't," Blossom said softly, resisting the urge of crying. He was right. Before Ace whispered in her ear, Blossom told herself that she was going to break up with Butch within the next 24 hours.

"So you're telling me," he narrowed his eyes at her, "That when I suggested for us to end things that night, you decided to kiss me and try to initiate having sex—which would have happened if I didn't stop you—but now you want to consider Butch's feelings?"

Blossom blinked at the redhead as a response, comprehending what he was saying. Once she did, sorrow washed over her eyes. "You're really going there?" she whispered, hurt cracking into her voice.

"Yeah. I am," Brick challenged. "Something is off here, Blossom. I know it is."

"There isn't," she responded with dejection. "I think it's best if we end whatever it is between us. Romantically _and_ platonically." Brick softened his expression, meeting Blossom's eyes that held the same amount of heartache that his had. "It's for the best."

"Okay," Brick mumbled, feeling defeated. He opened the door to his dorm and closing it on Blossom, signaling the end of their conversation. She exhaled loudly, wondering why the hell did she always have to ruin everything?

* * *

On a Thursday afternoon, Ms. Keane's last period of the day waited patiently as she called each student's name to reveal their interesting finding. From the various faces of the classroom, she could tell those who were excited—Dexter and Robin; indifferent—Boomer and Buttercup; or anxious—Bubbles and Blossom. There was only one who seemed irritated by the prospect.

She raised a curious eyebrow at Brick, who stared blankly out the window near his desk, ignoring anything occurring in the classroom. Ms. Keane considered on calling on him first to ensure his participation but also to snap him out of his mood, however, a nagging voice told her to leave him alone.

"Who would like to start us off?" Ms. Keane asked, clapping her hands together out of habit. Dexter's hand skyrocketed into the air, waving furiously. "Looks like it will be Dexter."

Dexter smiled, pushing up his glasses on the bridge of his nose as he spoke excitedly, "From what I found, Dee Dee and I are distant relatives of _the_ Albert Einstein."

"How much you want to bet he nutted himself when he found that out?" Butch whispered to Buttercup, causing her to chuckle lightly.

"Didn't that guy start that bagel company?" Dee Dee inquired, making Dexter sigh at his sister's stupidity. "If so, I'm a big fan."

"Well…" Ms. Keane smiled sheepishly. "That's indeed is an interesting find, Dexter and Dee Dee… Anyone else?" She flickered her eyes to the green-eyed pair in front of her desk. "How about you, Buttercup?"

"Nothing special," Buttercup shrugged. "My family is a hundred percent of Japanese descent. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Okay… Butch, what about you?"

"I found out that the ancestors on my mom's side were slaves," Butch answered. "I should have figured since Brazil was the number one importer of slaves during the trade and more than half of the population is Afro-Brazilians… Plus, it explains why my curls are so luscious," he smirked, gliding his hand through his dark hair.

"How do you feel about your ancestors coming from slavery?" Ms. Keane asked cautiously. "Were you outraged at all?"

"Obviously. Who wouldn't be? But I'm not going to ashamed of it. So I'm planning to get more in touch with the African side of my culture as much as I can since my ancestors had theirs robbed from them," he explained. "I want to carry on their legacy and pass it on to the children I could possibly have one day to make sure they don't forget the struggle and crime against humanity that their family was once apart of."

Ms. Keane nodded, appreciating Butch's maturity towards the topic—Buttercup also did the same. "I think that's a brilliant plan, Butch. I'm proud of you."

"Aye," he smirked. "Thanks, Keane."

"Who wants to go next?" she questioned, darting her eyes among the faces in the room, stopping when she was met by dark blue eyes. "Mr. Kealoha, how about you?"

"Oh… I didn't do the assignment," he revealed. His classmates gasped at his confession while Ms. Keane raised an eyebrow. "I don't like the encouragement of looking at the past unless it's our reincarnated selves. Other than that, we should focus on the present itself."

"What kind of hippie shit is that?" Mitch challenged, baffled by Boomer's explanation.

"Language, Mitch," Ms. Keane warned.

"Buttercup and Butch curse up a storm every single class period," Mitch defended. "And I say "shit" once and I get in trouble?"

"You think I have control over these two?" Ms. Keane argued, gesturing towards them.

"Hey!" they said defensively in unison.

Ms. Keane arched an eyebrow, "Seriously?"

"You're right," Butch admitted, slumping his shoulders.

"Yeah, whatever…" Buttercup mumbled.

"Anyways, Mitch, since you decided to speak up, why don't you tell us about your family?" the teacher grinned, patting herself on the back for the smooth transition.

"A couple of great-whatevers were in the holocaust," he responded. "Two were even survivors, which is pretty cool, I guess."

"Do you know if they are still alive? Maybe they could share their story with you."

Mitch shook his head, "They kicked the can a few years back but I'm sure one of my aunts knows about it and can tell me."

"Are you going to take the initiative like Butch to explore more into your culture and history?"

"I don't know," Mitch shrugged his shoulders with indifference.

"Oh," Ms. Keane stumbled. "Well then… um… Robin. How about you?"

"I come from a long line of circus performers," she said eagerly.

"So Mitch is into circus freaks?" Buttercup quipped lowly to Butch as he snickered. Ms. Keane shot an advisory glare at the two, motioning for them to stop teasing their classmates.

"Very interesting, Robin," Ms. Keane smiled, her eye shifted to behind the brunette. "Miss. Blanchette? Care to share?"

"Um…" Blossom chewed into her bottom lip, "I don't think it's appropriate if I do."

"Come on," Buttercup exasperated from across the classroom. "You come from a wealthy background, boo hoo."

Blossom glared at the dark-haired girl despite only being able to see the back of her head. The two were still on bad terms after their fight on New Years and now Blossom was outraged that Buttercup was making their feud somewhat public.

"Buttercup," Ms. Keane warned.

"I'm just stating the truth," Buttercup huffed, folding her arms and rolling her eyes. " _Unlike some people,_ " she muttered under her breath. Luckily for her, no one heard what she said.

With the except of the person who sat closest to her, who raised a curious eyebrow but pushed any doubts out of his mind.

"Miss. Blanchette. I'm sure it's not as bad as you think," Ms. Keane encouraged. "This is a safe and judgment free space." Both Buttercup and Butch snorted at the claim, snickering to themselves. The teacher sent a hard glare at the two, silently explaining to them that it will be a final warning for them. Instantly, they shut their mouths and attempted to save face. "And if you don't share, I'll take ten percent off your grade for this assignment."

Blossom inhaled sharply, fluttering her eyes around the classroom, feeling the heat of their stares on her face. This was certainly not a situation she wanted to be in.

"Well…" she cleared her throat, preparing for her more professional tone that she used for making presentations or speeches. "Since I am purely French, and as I must mention, during World War 2, France was an occupied territory by," Blossom paused, gulping. "The German forces, I sadly discovered that a few of my _distant_ family members were apart of the Hitler regime…"

"Oh…" Ms. Keane murmured in disbelief.

"What does that mean?" Boomer whispered over to Mitch.

Mitch eyed the blond in disgusted over his lacking knowledge or just ignorance, "It means her family were _Nazis_ ," he said loudly. " _Meaning_ they were apart of the genocide of my people."

"Yikes," Boomer winced, feeling pity for Blossom's association in the matter.

"Mitch… um…" Ms. Keane tried to find a way to control him from another outburst but could not find any way that was correct to please all parties involved.

"It's fine, Ms. Keane," Blossom interjected. "Those members of my family were monsters and most of them were brought to justice. And like Butch, I want to educate any children I may have of our family's past to help prevent another catastrophic event like the Holocaust from happening again."

"Very noble," Ms. Keane replied.

"Thank you," Blossom grinned. "I just want to do what is right."

Ms. Keane nodded at her comment, darting her eyes across the classroom to call on another student. She went through the majority of the class, only having five more students to present―two of them being Bubbles and Brick.

"Brick, would you care to share?"

Brick inhaled sharply, not wanting to share his finding.

"Um..."

Before he could start, the bell rang to dismiss the class, ending the school day. Brick grabbed his belongings and raced out the classroom, ignoring any of his classmates calling out to him, leaving Ms. Keane in a perplexed state.

* * *

Gazing around the table, Boomer could not escape the awkward tension within the group. He would exchange glances with Butch, who sat across from him, questioning on why things seemed different. Both knew the reason why as it was noticeable but did not speak on it.

His ocean blue eyes transferred over to the table across the mess hall, where a mixture of members from the football and lacrosse team sat. In the middle of the group, a familiar, hat-wearing redhead preoccupied a seat for the third night in a row, enjoying his dinner and joking around with those around him.

Boomer returned his focus to those in front of him, clearing his throat to gain their attention. Once all eyes were on him, he spoke, "Um… I hate to be the one to bring up the elephant at the table—"

" _In the room_ ," Blossom corrected.

"Huh?"

"The saying," she explained, stabbing into the lettuce in her Greek salad. "It's " _the elephant in the room_ ", not the table."

"Oh… well, anyway, I don't to be the one but, um, why hasn't Brick sat with us for the past few days?" The table remained silent at the question, only the sound of lettuce being crunched inside of Blossom's mouth being heard as she chewed tightly. "Hello?"

"I say good riddance," Buttercup responded. "We're better off without him."

"But he's our friend."

"Speak for yourself, Boom. I can't stand his Mr. Perfect self."

"Butch, do you know why?"

Butch shrugged his shoulders, "Probably needs a break from us."

"I don't think that's what he's doing," Buttercup replied. "But I'm sure whatever his "unknown" reasoning for ditching us, are _very valid_ ," she flashed a mischievous grin. " _Right, Blossom?_ "

The redhead stared blankly at Buttercup, unimpressed at her attempt to throw her under the bus once again, "Brick has other friends than us," she said flatly. "It's not surprising that he's expanding his social circle, unlike us who isolated ourselves from the rest of the school."

"We haven't," Bubbles interjected.

Blossom raised an eyebrow, "Who do you eat lunch with?"

"You guys."

"Dinner?"

"You guys."

"Breakfast?"

"You guys."

"Hang out with on the weekends?"

"You guys," Bubble sighed in defeat, slumping her shoulders back. "You're right."

"When am I not?"

Buttercup snorted, "I could name various scenarios when you weren't. Like maybe now with how—"

"That's enough, Buttercup," Blossom warned, narrowing her eyes. "I get it, now can you drop it?"

Buttercup remained muted, turning her attention to the slice of pizza on her tray as her answer. To her left, Butch furrowed his eyebrows in confusion to why there was tension between the two. Blossom has told him about some of the recent arguments they been having but those usually expired after a day. This one seemed to have a long lasting effect, more so, it been bubbling up from the beginning of last semester. To avoid the frustrating conflict, Butch decided to change the subject matter—in his mind, it would at least put a temporary stop to the tension in the group.

"So um," he coughed to get their attention. "I've decided I'm going to quit drinking—or at least, I'm going to stop until I turn 21."

"Really?" Blossom grinned proudly. She reached out for her boyfriend's hand, stroking her thumb against his knuckle. The action disgusted herself. Why did she still act like a loving and supporting girlfriend? A loving and supportive girlfriend would not cheat. "And what has made you change your tune?"

"The fact that all I can recall from New Years, is arriving at the party and then waking up in my bed at 5 in the morning, not knowing how I ended up there, only to throw up half of my body weight into a nearby waste basket," he responded. He left out the detail of a weird dream he had of Buttercup being in his room. That will remain private information.

"Gross," Boomer grimaced as Bubbles did the same.

"Yeah… not one of my best moments," Butch said sheepishly. "That's why I'm going to stop until I'm 21. I'm lucky enough to not have gotten caught yet but if I can get so plastered to not remember a single aspect of a night, then I need to make some life changes."

"Well, I for one, am extremely supportive of this decision," Blossom beamed despite the voice nagging that she should not have a say in Butch's life anymore.

"Good," Butch smiled. "Because I don't want to make you worry anymore about my drinking. It's too much pressure for you to take care of me when I'm like that."

"I'm just happy you got home safe, Butch. I don't know what I would have done if something had happened to you," she said, feeling like she was lying through her teeth but it was her honest opinion.

"You can't get rid of me that easily, babe."

Buttercup rolled her eyes at the couple's moment. A part of her was pissed at Butch's accusation that Blossom would have taken care of him. She just wanted to shout at the top of lungs about Blossom's lack of consideration for her boyfriend. Blossom would have never done what she did for Butch that night. If it was not for Buttercup, Butch probably would have been: the laughing stock on the campus, Blossom would have been pissed at him for making a fool out of him and her, or could have been caught by a cop in the odd occasion.

Maybe she was being bitter about Butch praising the thought of Blossom doing what she did for him. After all, Buttercup knew Blossom would never have Butch's back. But did that mean she had his?

Buttercup furrowed her eyebrows at the troubling thought, stuffing her mouth with the pepperoni pizza she was having to dissolve the idea.

"Hey. So if we're making revelations right now," Bubbles chimed with four pairs of eyes glancing at her. "I guess I should tell you about what I found out from Keane's project."

"Oh yeah. You didn't present today," Boomer recalled.

Bubbles nodded, "Which I'm glad about because I want you guys to be the first to know but… I found out who my dad is."

"Are you serious, Bubs?" Buttercup asked excitedly, sharing the same mixed expression of shock and delight as the rest of the table. "That's fucking incredible!"

Bubbles grinned, "Yeah. Yeah, it is—"

"What's his name?" Butch inquired.

" _Wallace Harper_."

"Harper? So I'm guessing the means you're half white," Blossom added.

"Oh my God," Bubbles exclaimed. "I didn't even think about that."

"What about where he lives? Did you find that out?" Boomer questioned.

"San Mateo."

"Bubs. You do realize that's only a four-hour drive," Buttercup pointed out. "You could go see him."

"I don't know about that—"

"Why not? Isn't this what you wanted? To know who he was?"

"It's more complicated than that, Butters," Bubbles mumbled.

"So what? You're not going to do anything about it?"

"Like I said, I don't know. I have a lot to think about," she said, her eyes diverting across the mess hall.

"It's fine, Bubs," Blossom cut in, sending Buttercup a dirty look for pressuring the blonde for an answer. "Whatever you decide, we'll support you no matter what."

Bubbles nodded, not really paying attention to what was being said. Her mind was somewhere else as the conversation at the table shifted towards discussing the new semester.

She wanted to explain to the group her thoughts on the matter but deep down felt like they would not understand. They all grew up with their fathers in the picture, and considering how close Buttercup and Boomer were with their dads, Bubbles did not think they would give adequate advice. There was only one person who would understand what she was going through.

* * *

"Do we need to talk about your subtle digs lately?" Blossom asserted, shutting the door behind them as they entered their dorm room.

Buttercup rolled her eyes, sinking onto her bed, "Nope."

The redhead snorted, stripping off her ballet flats and pulling her hair up into a tight bun, "You sure about that? You seem like you have a lot to say when everyone is around."

"You just never know when to quit, do you?" Buttercup challenged.

"It's one of the best of my qualities," she sassed, knowing it was a hypocritical statement.

"Those must be _extremely_ hard to find, aren't they?"

Blossom arched an eyebrow, becoming more self-conscious about her character, "So we're moving onto cheap blows? Real mature."

Buttercup huffed to herself out of frustration, seething at her roommate, "I'm so sick of your high society shit. Always thinks you're better than everyone. Such a fucking lie."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Buttercup," Blossom countered, furrowing her eyebrows at the outburst.

Having a person attacking her personally, was not an uplifting experience—especially when the person was someone she cared deeply about. However, she was not going to do anything about it. Buttercup had every right to call her out on how terrible she has been. The more Blossom heard about how intolerable she has become, the more it opened her eyes and made her long for a self-reinvention. She did not deserve to have Buttercup's friendship. Maybe building a wall between the two was best for the dark-haired girl's sake.

"That's it? No snarky comeback?" Buttercup exasperated, slightly disappointed.

She wanted her and Blossom to have a blowout fight because at least then, they would get all their feelings and thoughts out. From there, they could work to fix the fractures in their friendship. It was a pattern they would always follow when having troubles. However, Blossom was conceding, displaying to Buttercup that she had no plans to repair things between them anytime soon.

Blossom sat down on her bed, pulling the covers of the bed over her body. She glanced at her roommate as her hand reached for the nearby desk lamp that illuminated the room.

"Yes," she muttered, shutting off the light, letting darkness consume the room as the two wallowed in the tension that lingered between them.

* * *

"Bubbles?" Brick questioned in astonishment when opening the door to his dorm room. The blonde blinked at him in response, keeping a subtle distance from the door. Brick rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "Um… I think you have the wrong door. Boomer is across the hall."

Bubbles shook her head, "I didn't. I want to talk to you."

"Really?"

Brick was taken back since Bubbles has never actively sought him out. Usually Brick was a last resort for the blonde if everyone in the group was preoccupied. Which meant, it had to be somewhat serious if she was coming to him for something.

"Yeah…" Bubbles shifted her weight, keeping her eyes on the rusty tone of the hallway's carpeting. "I think you're the only one who truly understands about any of this since we're somewhat in similar situations but…" Bubbles paused, biting her bottom lip. She lifted her head up, meeting Brick's crimson eyes. "I found out who my dad is."

"Oh."

Bubbles sighed, rubbing her arm to ease the awkwardness she felt, "I don't know… now that I know who he is, it just makes me wonder if I want to do something about it—Like if I want to reach out and contact him… If you could, would you do the same with your dad?"

Brick furrowed his eyebrows, pursing his lips in consideration, "Bubs. If your dad wanted to be apart of your life, he would have made it apparent," he responded, intentionally avoiding her question for him.

"But what if he did try? What if he was contacting me when my mom was alive but she kept it a secret?"

"From what you told me and from what I heard, your mom was too kind to keep your dad away from you by choice."

"Fine," Bubbles huffed. "But what if he did try to contact me after sometime—more especially, when my mom passed away. He could have only had our contact information from when we lived in Orlando," she pressed, gaining an amused grin from Brick. "So after I moved, he had no way of reaching out to me. What if he did try?"

Brick chuckled lightly at the blonde's reasoning, cocking an eyebrow, "It sounds to me like you're already convinced on what to do, Bubbles."

"What? No, I'm not," she argued. "I'm just giving him the benefit of the doubt."

"Sure you are," Brick said sarcastically. "And I bet you've thought about what it would like to reunite with him? That you haven't prepared a speech in your head for when you confront him about abandoning you? Or that you've started day-dreaming of all the cool daddy-daughter stuff you can do now?"

"I…" Bubbles sighed sharply, hanging her head in defeat. "You're right… I do want to contact him. It's just something I've always wanted to do… Don't you feel the same way?"

"No," he said sharply. "But that shouldn't discourage you from reaching out to your dad. We may have the same detail of growing up fatherless but our situations are greatly different. My own personal digressions about my dad are not something that should stop you from meeting your's because that's something you want to do—and you're so selfless, Bubs. You should focus on things that you want for once."

Bubbles nodded, appreciating the advice he was giving to her but could not stop her curiousity at the same time. "But why?" Bubbles asked, snapping her head up to stare at Brick again. "Why don't you care about anything regarding your dad?"

"He's a fucking abuser," Brick scoffed, furrowing his eyebrows in anger and folding his arms.

Bubbles blinked in response, recalling a conversation with Blossom a few months ago, "I thought it didn't bother you," she responded. "Well, at least, that's what Blossom said."

"Blossom told you about that?"

Bubbles nodded, "But I asked her—not about the abuse. I asked her about your past since you never told anyone else."

Brick rolled his eyes at the fact, slightly regretting his decision to open up to Blossom, "It's a complicated subject, Bubs. He was abusive to my mom but she didn't help it either. They were both sick and produced a toxic relationship…" he paused, exhaling deeply. "But it wasn't just my mom that he abused."

"How do you know?"

"He married another woman two years after I was born," he answered. "She was a day-care worker and a very sweet person from what I could understand but apparently my dad didn't care. The police were called thirty times in one year over domestic abuse and he got arrested five times but he never got charges pressed against him because she feared what he might do."

Bubbles gasped, "Where did you find this out?"

"Keane's project gave me his name," Brick shrugged. " _Conner Adams_." He rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disgust. "Anyways, after that, there's only so much Google can tell you."

"I know he's a bad person but maybe you should…" She gulped out of nervousness, not wanting to press the wrong buttons due to the sensitivity of the topic. "Maybe you should contact him. I think if he saw you and realize the mistake he's made in not watching you grow up and become the man you are today, it will make him reconsider his life choices… you could change him for the better," Bubbles suggested hopefully, truly believing Brick could have a positive impact on his father.

Brick stared blankly at the blonde and simply said, "No."

"Why, Brick? Don't you think it's unfair?" Bubbles argued. "Just because he abandoned you, doesn't mean you should abandon him. He _needs_ you. You should want to help him. He's your dad, no matter what."

"I'm not making the decision based on not wanting to do it, Bubbles," he muttered.

"Then what is it, Brick?"

"I literally cannot speak to him."

Bubbles paused, her mind processing what he said, "What… What do you mean?" she asked slowly in a delicate tone. "Is he in jail? Because you can still contact—"

"He's dead…"

"Oh my…" Bubbles breathed.

Brick winced at the sorrow in her voice, not wanting her pity. "It's fine," Brick exhaled deeply. "The brother of his wife had enough of him abusing his sister, so one day he just snapped… twenty stab wounds later, my dad bleed out on the concrete sidewalk in front of his house in New Haven."

"Oh my god," the blonde gasped in horror. "That's terrible."

"He deserved it, Bubs," he responded.

"No one deserves to be murdered," Bubbles challenged. "But I wasn't saying that for him. I'm saying it for you." She reached out, placing her hand on his forearm, gazing intensely into his eyes. "Are you okay?"

She watched as flashes of conflicting emotions appeared on his face as he contemplated how to reply to her question. Brick inhaled sharply, closing his eyes as if he was searching his mind physically for an answer.

"There's nothing I can do to fix the reality of the situation, so there is no point in letting it pester me," Brick mumbled, opening his eyes again. "I guess that's a yes…"

Bubbles shook her head, knowing that he was not truly okay but was fronting it in order to convince himself. She had no clue how difficult it must be for him. He had to mourn the death of a man he never knew. A man who did terrible things to too many people throughout his short life but without him, Brick would not be alive on this planet. Brick had every reason to loath and cut himself off from the grief of his father's death, and yet, Bubbles can tell that Brick was having a hard time processing the complex emotions he held.

He regretted never knowing him, Bubbles determined, and never having the chance to do so. She had the luxury of having the knowledge of her father's existence but Brick, he had the displeasure of learning the truth about his.

Those emotions that flashed on his face, it was angry over who his father was; it was sadness over knowing he would never truly know him and vice versa; it was guilt for being happy that his dad was no longer alive anymore to hurt other woman; and it was self-loathing for having any caring thoughts about who his dad was.

His discordant thoughts were confusing him and his ability to truly comprehend his sentiment towards his father. How can he hate someone that was his own flesh and blood? The man who gave him life? It was a tricky decision and Brick was not sure if he was mature enough to figure it out on his own. But he had to.

Bubbles watched as he grimaced at his self-pity. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his muscular frame, believing this was the best way she could comfort him. Brick startled at her action, taking a half step back before understanding what she was doing. Once processing what was going on, Brick, not realizing it, hugged her back, resting his chin on top of the blonde's head. He did not grasp how much he needed her hug until it happened, feeling grateful for Bubbles' compassion.

"Thank you, Bubbles," he murmured. "Thank you…"

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Aye, we're onto Act 2 now.**

 **I just want to say thank you to those who take the time to review my story, I really appreciate it and y'all are the best!**

 **Hope everyone has a wonderful week and thank you for reading!**


	14. The Flawed & The Flawless

With a new week at Townsville Academy, it brought a new assignment for the seniors in Ms. Keane's creative writing class. Her students listened intensively as she explained their writing topic of the week.

"Our flaws are what makes us who we are, despite how much we might not want to recognize them," she began. "This week, I want each of you to write a two-page paper. Half of the assignment will be dedicated to what you find to be your biggest flaw and the other half will be about you analyzing how you have picked up this trait/how do you address it in your everyday life. Your paper will be due on Friday and will be kept confidential because of how personal it may be. Do I need to explain it any further?" Her students shook their heads, understanding their homework. She raised an eyebrow, "No sassy comments for once? I must be hallucinating."

However, she was not. The lack of response from her students was from them all becoming anxious by the new assignment. After all, who really wanted to psychoanalyze and pick apart the worst aspects of themselves?

* * *

"Am I the only one who majorly regrets taking Ms. Keane's class?" Butch exasperated as he dropped his tray on the plastic table in the mess hall. He slid onto the bench, taking all the room he needed since only him and Buttercup occupied that side of the table because of Brick's still unexplained departure.

"It's a requirement for seniors, Butch," Blossom reminded.

"Fuck that shit. We should be taking English literature, not expelling all our sins for our teacher's amusement," Buttercup chimed.

"See," Butch gestured towards Buttercup, smirking. "She makes a very valid point."

"I don't know," Bubbles responded, shrugging her shoulders. "I think writing each week is therapeutic."

"I've been in therapy. These are two _very_ different scenarios," Butch replied.

"Well, it should be similar," Bubbles argued but kept a cheery tone.

Blossom rolled her eyes at Bubbles as Boomer spoke, "I just think she's pushing it a little with these assignments, don't you agree?" A chorus of yes' answered his question. "They're too introspective—especially this week. It's going to be so hard to start this paper."

"Probably because no one wants to admit their flaws," Buttercup darted her eyes to the redhead at the table. " _Right, Blossom?_ "

Blossom sent Buttercup a glare before saving face and replying to Boomer, "You're right, Boomer."

"You know what?" Bubbles grinned. "We should help each other."

"How?" Butch questioned, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

"We point out what we think is each others' flaws."

"Oh no," Buttercup dismissed. "This is only going to start shit between all of us."

"Only if you're being spiteful," the blonde defended. "Come on. It will give us some ideas to use."

Boomer shrugged his shoulders, "I'm fine with it." The other three glanced at each other, feeling uncomfortable with the situation but all knew it would benefit them in some way, so they nodded in agreement.

"Perfect," Bubbles clapped. "Who will go first?"

"I'll go first," Blossom announced, meeting the blonde's eyes. She felt a little giddy for finally getting this off her chest, "Bubs. You love playing the victim in every situation. It's annoying and pathetic. Own up to your mistakes instead of making everyone feel guilty."

"What… What are you talking about?" Bubbles scoffed, the smile on her face immediately disappearing. "I don't do that." She glanced around the table, seeking any sort of reassurance. "Do I?"

"You do," Buttercup replied.

"I don't…" Bubbles felt her eyes growing warm as she held back the tears that were beginning to form. She did not understand how her friends could be so harsh to her. Well, two could play at that game. "Fine. If we're going there," she shifted her eyes to the large, tan male at the table, "Butch constantly needs to be the center of attention or he throws a hissy fit. It's why he doesn't have that many friends outside of us."

Butch snorted at the blonde's remarks, "Harsh words, Bubs," he deadpanned. Bubbles narrowed her eyes, wishing she gained more of a reaction out of him. Butch flickered his eyes to Boomer, "Since your girlfriend chose me, I'll return the favor... Boom, you're the dumbest person at this Academy—and I say that in the most loving way."

Boomer opened his mouth to reply but snapped his focus to Buttercup, who was chuckling at Butch's comment. "You think that's funny?" Boomer retorted. His anger that he kept well-trapped seeping through a little.

"I—"

"Well then, you're incapable of being vulnerable," Boomer pointed out. "Therefore, you keep all your emotions bottled up and behave rudely to your very _own friends_ when they get too close. That's why you have trouble making connections with anyone."

Buttercup arched her eyebrows, impressed by Boomer's respond. She did not know he had it in him. Her eyes traveled from the blue-eyed male to the person next to him. Buttercup grinned devilishly, pleasantly amused by the person left for her.

"I guess that leaves you, Blossom," Buttercup said wickedly.

"Butters…" Blossom warned.

"Where do I begin?" Buttercup tapped her chin in thought. "Let's see. You never listen to anyone. You always cut people off when they're talking to you. You think you're right all the time because you need to feel like you're in control 24/7," Buttercup listed as the other three around her watched cautiously, preparing themselves for any explosive reaction for Blossom. "And let's not forget, you're the fakest person at this school."

Blossom blinked at the green-eyed girl, opting not to reply. She was not going to deny anything Buttercup said as it was the truth. Instead, Blossom let the awkward silence consume the table, which it did for the rest of the lunch period while the five individuals counted down each minute until it was over.

* * *

Boomer glanced around Ms. Keane's classroom, darting his eyes back and forward between his classmates. He watched as they started their first paragraph to turning the page over. Tapping a pen to his chin, Boomer felt the pressure to begin his very own paper for the class. He sighed, mulling over what he could possibly write about.

Only one thing stuck out to him.

What Butch said at lunch earlier that day. Despite the group making up before class—with the exception of Blossom and Buttercup—Boomer could not get over what was said.

Boomer knew he was not the brightest person around. It was obvious and he accepted it. However, he did not like being considered dumb. The phrase made him feel as if he was being simplified into not having a single sign of intelligence.

In Boomer's mind, everyone was smart in their own way. They all have their specific aspects of intelligence. Blossom had academic intellect but also was incredibly knowledgeable in dance; Butch and Buttercup knew everything about soccer; Football and academics were Brick's intelligence; Bubbles and art. Boomer's peak of intelligence was anything that had to do with activities including water. Swimming, diving, surfing, fishing, etc. Any of those tasks and Boomer knew all aspects.

However, this was overlooked because to others, they were not seen as useful knowledge. This resulted in him becoming the token dumb friend within his group throughout elementary and middle school, a role that he did not mind a majority of the time because Boomer could play dumb to stay out of drama but he was not fond when his friends' truly believed he was without intellect. When he came to the Academy, Boomer thought he finally would not be typecasted as the dumb friend. From what Butch stated and the agreement from the green-eyed girl, he was wrong. It was discouraging to him that they could not see pass the stereotypical signs of intelligence—Boomer thought they were way better than that.

Furthermore, as a society, academic intellect was seen to be the only type of intelligence around. He may not have a clue on who won or _even_ participated in the Cold War or have the quadratic formula memorized, but Boomer did not feel that should reflect on his capabilities. Instead, others' should be noticing how he was always willing to learn and understand in any given situation he did not comprehend.

His eagerness to learn should be what displayed his intelligence, not the lack he had because Boomer did not want to act like he knew everything. He still had a lot to learn about the world and he will get there at his own pace. Boomer just wished everyone did not shit on him for being a few steps behind than normal. Everyone learned at their own pace, it was not a difficult concept to grasp.

His eyes widened, putting his dark blue eyes on display as they shined at the idea Boomer had for his paper. Forming a lopsided grin, the blond began to write furiously.

He decided to approach the topic of how air-headed he could be, was seen as a flaw and maybe a weakness but it had opened his eyes to how easy it was for others' to judge those who are different. His so-called flaw made Boomer more equipped to understand how cruel others' in the world could be to those who had a disadvantage.

Boomer wanted to prove how unnecessary the worshipping of academic intelligence was and the snobbish behavior that could from those who did. That no one should be called "dumb" because of their lack of education. It was society's job to help educate those who are unaware, not shame them for not knowing.

It was also on him to make sure that he did not remain ignorant on topics. He had to remain constant on his willingness to learn as it had to be a two-way deal.

" _Being educated and learning should coexist, not for it to be either/or."_

Boomer grinned more, re-reading the rough draft he created in the span of twenty minutes. He was impressed as it was the best work he has done all year but also because he was proud of what was written. He could only hope Ms. Keane could tell how much thought he put into it. That she was able to see the intellect behind it.

* * *

"I don't know what to do about Buttercup..." Blossom muttered to Butch. They were alone in his dorm room. Blossom was sitting up, her back against the wall, while Butch laid on his bed, one hand stroking Blossom's knee and the other behind his head.

"I don't—"

"I keep trying to distance myself from her because of all fighting but she keeps attacking me," she continuing, lying about the reasoning on why she was trying to disattach herself from Buttercup. Making sure to avoid the linger thoughts of self-loathing as she spoke to Butch.

"I mean anything she said doesn't matter." Butch lifted his head, meeting Blossom's eyes, "None of it was truth," he reassured despite a nagging voice in his head telling him to reconsider. After all, it seemed like Buttercup was always the one to have the best understanding of any given situation. "If it was, I would have said something by now."

"I know," Blossom sighed, lowering her gaze. She felt hypocritical for commenting about Buttercup's behavior since everything she stated was the truth. Even more so, Blossom should not be talking to Butch about it. He was the one person she wanted to know the least about the truth lately.

She felt her stomach turn at the thought, her mind flashing to the passion in Brick's red eyes and his hands touching all over her skin. She winced a little, feeling gross for reminiscing for the moment. For wanting it to happen again. For having regrets about ending things and ignoring him over paranoia of being discovered. But mostly, for having those images of him in her mind as she sat on her boyfriend's bed.

"You okay?" Butch asked gently. He stopped stroking her knee but kept his hand firmly placed on her thigh. Blossom could not keep her eyes off of it, feeling even more disgusting.

"Yeah…" she breathed, hating herself for lying even more. "I'm just a little lightheaded."

"Probably have to catch your breath from all that ranting," he quipped.

"Maybe."

His eyebrows furrowed as the slight grin Butch had, faded into a frown, "Hey." He lifted up her chin to make eye contact, "Forget what Buttercup said. You're amazing the way you are… _you're perfect_ , okay?"

"Okay," Blossom nodded, feeling a jab in her chest at his use of the word "perfect". He was unintentional rubbing it in her face. The fact that she chased after perfection for so long only to realize how fruitious it was in the last two weeks. How she felt gutted to the core when associated with that word now. Why did she have to put herself in this position? Why did she have to be so stupid and had to feel the need for validation so badly, for so long?

Why could not she end things with Butch already to avoid hurting him anymore?

"I love you so much, babe," he murmured, contouring his body around her so his chin laid on the knee that once held a spot for his hand.

Blossom glanced into his emerald eyes, which sparkled with love. She ran her hand through his thick, curly hair, a soft smile forming. This was why she could not break up with him.

She still loved him.

He was her first love. The first person she had ever been in love with. Butch was the first person to show her unconditional love. Without him, Blossom would not know what it would be like to love someone. He taught her how to love and what it was like to be loved.

"I love you too…" Blossom whispered, ignoring the self-loathing she felt but it was how she felt. She did love him. Blossom was sure about that… but was she in love with him?

Her stomach dropped at the thought, knowing the answer. If she was still in love with him, she would not have cheated. Blossom would not be constantly thinking about another guy, even if they had fractured their relationship. She still wanted Brick, no matter how much she tried to change her mind.

Butch deserved better, and yet, Blossom could not let him go.

She was so greedy, it was sickening.

"So do you know what you're going to write about?" Butch inquired.

"I…" she paused. Her response was exactly what Buttercup said at lunch, but she could not confess that to Butch. "I'm not sure."

"How come?"

Before she could reply, the door to the dorm opened and closed as Brick entered the room. His eyes reflected sorrow for a second when they landed on Blossom, darting them away to hide his pain.

"I didn't know you had company," he muttered, slinging off his backpack.

Butch folded his eyebrows, "Company? It's Blossom. She's here almost every week."

Brick did not respond, keeping his back towards the couple as he unpacked his homework for the night.

Blossom shifted her weight as chewed on her bottom lip, feeling the awkward tension radiating between each other. "I think I'm going to—"

She was cut off by the door being opened again, Boomer's head sticking in. "Hey, Butch? Can you help me find my sock?" he asked.

Butch sighed reluctantly, lifting himself up, "I thought Brick helped you find it last week."

"What?" Boomer questioned, not recalling the memory.

"It's whatever," Butch responded, following Boomer out the door. The sound of the door shutting startled Blossom, making her jump a little. She inhaled sharply in order to calm herself down, realizing this was the first time she was alone with Brick since ending things the week before.

She watched him take out his notebook, taking a seat at his desk and opening his Calculus textbook. The silence of the room was killing her, and from how tense Brick was holding his pencil and his jawline was, Blossom could tell it was killing him too.

"Are we… Do you hate me?" she asked hesitantly, coming out as a whisper. It was the first time she had spoken to him since she visited his dorm a week ago.

Brick pursed his lips, considering the question but kept his eyes on the book in front of him as he started numbering his paper for the problems he needed to solve, " _Never_... Just seeing you here makes me..."

"Regret everything?"

"I don't regret anything. But you? You regret kissing me, Blossom," he replied sharply. "Don't deny it."

"But… I don't…"

"Please do not make this harder than it is for me," Brick murmured. "I don't want to be one those people you start lying to."

"I'm not lying, Brick."

He finally glanced at her, his eyes staring intensely. She watched as various stages of emotions flashed through them as he formulated a response.

"I… I don't believe you."

"Don't or don't want to?"

He exhaled deeply, lowering his gaze once again. "Both."

"Brick, I…" she paused, her mind recalling his words from a few months ago. "Do you not trust me anymore?"

"Do I trust you?" he restated, turning his desk chair around so he could face her. His eyebrow arched but dark circles lined his eyes and misery seeped from his crimson eyes. "Blossom. You're a liar and a cheater. You manipulate those who love and care about you. You're also incredibly self-involved—"

"Okay. I get it," she said over him, pain noticeable inflicted into her tone. Blossom hung her head low, staring at the pale pink nail polish on her toes. "I'm a terrible person… I get it."

"I wasn't finished," he whispered, her head snapping up to meet his eyes.

"Go on…"

Brick smirked slightly, "I was going to say, that yes, you have a lot of traits that show you're untrustworthy… But you've never done any of those things to me. I guess that sounds shitty or whatever, for not caring about how others are treated but I'm only supposed to look out for one person here, and that's myself. And because of that, I trust you."

"Why would you do that?" Blossom argued. "That's so dumb."

"I think a large part of it is because, well, I like you. _A lot..._ Even after all of this drama and indecisiveness," he stated with Blossom nodding. "But also because I know there's a reason behind it all. I know that's not who you truly are, Blossom. You're more than the "mean girl" front you have going on… You're just confused on what you want," he laughed slightly at the irony of the statement. "In life, is what I meant… I wasn't talking about us... cause we're over."

"Yeah…" she muttered, eyes lingering on him longer than she should. " _We're over_."

Brick furrowed his eyebrows at her response, the gears in his mind turning. Without processing anything, he became overcome by his desire for Blossom once again. Rolling his chair over to Butch's bed, he never took his eyes off of her, "Totally _and_ completely over…" he breathed, his hand reaching out for her's. She stiffened for a slight second before letting him get a hold of her, entwining her hand with his. " _Nothing_ will ever happen again…" Brick teased, leaning forward.

Blossom ignored the half of her that wanted to resist, allowing herself to give into her temptations again. "Correct," she said gently, pressing her forehead against his. The two stared into each other's eyes, daring for the other to make the first move. Brick unraveled their hands, cupping her face. "We're never going to happen," Blossom mumbled on his lips before kissing him.

Instead of the passionnate, lust fueled make-out session from New Years, this kiss was slow, tender, and heartfelt. There was a longing and bittersweetness to it, as both knew in the back of their minds that it possibly was the last time it will ever happen. As much as Blossom wanted not to, she felt butterflies beginning to flutter in her stomach when Brick tipped her head back to deepen the kiss.

After a minute or two, they broke apart. Brick kept his hand on her cheek, staring into her eyes. His thumb stroking the corner of her mouth as a melancholic smirk tugged on his.

"We're really bad at this ignoring each other thing, aren't we?"

She nodded, smiling softly despite the renewed guilt that was consuming her thoughts now, "There has to be a reason why."

"And what is that, Bloss?"

"I think—"

Blossom was unable to finish her sentence as they both heard the doorknob begin to turn. Brick removed his hand, pushing the chair back in front of his desk at a record speed before Butch opened the door, returning back into the room. The dark-haired teen did not suspect a thing since Brick pretended to have been enthralled by his Calculus homework and Blossom was leaning against the wall again—the same position she was in when Butch left.

Blossom could not escape the new form of self-hatred she felt as Butch took his spot next to her. She could not keep lying to him. She cannot keep playing him. But every time she looked into his eyes, Blossom forgot all her misdeeds because she cannot bring herself to break his heart.

Her eyes flickered over to Brick for a second. If she could not break things off with Butch, Blossom at least tried to with Brick. Yet, they just kissed a few minutes ago. Not just any old kiss, but he gave her butterflies. Blossom could not remember the last time that occurred for her and Butch.

When they first started dating?

Did she ever feel butterflies?

Blossom was not sure.

She was not sure if she genuinely wanted things to end with Brick now. It was so simple last week when they were giving each other the silent treatment but now that it has expired, Blossom felt her toxic combination of conflicting emotions; remorse and repulsion of herself becoming well known to her.

If it was not for them, Blossom would not have noticed how unperfect she has been and always be. She would not have awoken from her rose-colored world of perfection.

They opened her eyes to how vile of a human she was.

* * *

It was a Tuesday afternoon and Bubbles was nuzzled comfortably into her bed, enjoying the unusual silence of her room. Ever since Princess moved in, there has not been a peaceful moment for the blonde. Thankfully, the redhead was out watching the latest lacrosse match—she went in attempts to gain some attention from Brick.

Sighing contently to herself as she flipped open her composition notebook for Ms. Keane's class, Bubbles searched for a blank page to write on. She figured that she should take full advantage of the tranquillity in the room.

Bubbles' mind floundered over the various topics she could approach for the assignment. The blonde was self-aware of the numerous flaws she might have as she was taught by her Abuela to always be honest with herself. Her occasional insecurities over Boomer, their co-dependence, her naivety, or her submissive attitude, were a few ideas flowing in her mind. Bubbles knew she could produce a perfectly fine paper using one for those traits.

The only problem was, Bubbles' did not find them to be that big of a deal. She believed they were all flaws anyone else could have. Bubbles wanted to use a characteristic that not everyone could identify with.

Her thoughts immediately went to Blossom's words from the day before. The jaggedness of them digging under her skin and remaining there like dirt under her nails. Bubbles could not forget how venomous they felt to her. She could not believe how Blossom could speak so rudely to someone like her. The blonde has never done anything wrong or spoken illy to Blossom, so it did not make sense as to why the redhead treated her that way.

Bubbles paused her thoughts, widening her eyes.

That was what Blossom meant.

She was converting herself into the victim.

Bubbles was the one who wanted them to point out each others' flaws. She was the one who could not take the heat and got upset. It was not Blossom's fault for telling Bubbles the truth. The only thing that was wrong, was how Blossom approached pointing it out.

However, that did not matter for now.

Bubbles glanced at her notebook, grabbing her pen, and writing down a lengthy paragraph about her realization. She dotted a period, re-reading for any mistakes before tapping her chin in thought for what else she wanted to write. Ms. Keane said for them to divulge on why they may have acquired this trait, so Bubbles began thinking about the starting point of her nasty habit.

Was it her belief in always being kind?

Or her naivety?

Both?

It could be from past experiences too.

Alarms went off in her head when Bubbles believed to have pinpointed the exact reason why she started play victim.

It was her mother's death.

During that period of time, Bubbles received a large amount of sympathy from those around her. None of them wanted to be nothing but kind to the blonde. As soon as anyone heard Bubbles' mother had passed away, they always treated her differently. It was like there was safely barrier around the blonde that constantly protected her feelings. She did not realize how accustomed she had gotten to being sheltered by any type of negativity towards her.

Then she came to the Academy and became friends with the most brutally honest person—Buttercup. The green-eyed girl's sharp tongue would rub her the wrong way for years, with Bubbles not understanding why Buttercup treated her poorly if she was always nice to her. Now that Bubbles knew Buttercup could be jealous of her from time to time, it made a lot more sense. But also, it had a lot to do with herself too.

If Bubbles was not so sensitive and quick to blame Buttercup for ruffling feathers, she would have been able to avoid plethoras of fights. Buttercup had the right to be angry at her if that was how she truly felt. Bubbles should not push her friend to believe she was not justified in her feelings because if it was the other way around, she would not be too happy either.

Bubbles had to work on allowing others to display emotions other than happiness towards her. Not everyone was going to be in a cheery mood 24/7 even if she tried otherwise.

Not everyone was going to be like her, and she did not want it that way. Because of that, Bubbles was no longer going to play the victim.

* * *

"How do you feel about Kelvin getting more play time?" Butch's teammate, Gabe asked, untying his shoe as he sat next to Butch on the bench in the locker room—they had just finished practice for the day.

Butch shrugged his shoulders, rubbing a towel around his sweat-drenched face. "If coach thinks he has potential, then there's nothing much I can do."

"Seriously?" Gabe responded, taken back by Butch's nonchalant attitude.

"I'm a senior. After five more games, none of this will matter to me anymore," Butch explained, removing the towel from his face and slinging it around his neck "I'm not going to college for basketball, but Kelvin is. And unlike me, he has two more years to develop his skills."

"I guess you're right… I'm just surprised by how well you're taking it.

"Why?" he questioned, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I heard about your jealousy thing with that Brick guy during football season," Gabe responded, standing up to open his locker. "You have a thing for being the star-athlete. Everyone knows it. It would drive everyone insane."

Butch blinked at Gabe's words, not objecting anything he was saying.

A few months ago, he would been annoyed to no ends and pissed over the thought of Kelvin being the star of the team—similar to how he felt about Brick becoming the leader of the football team over him. Given how sports were always his outlet to receiving attention—since his parents would not give him any—or standing out—it was the one thing he excelled in compared to his brother, Adrian—Butch was very protective of any achievements he made.

This changed though.

After fighting with Brick over the Homecoming game and Battle of the Sexes week with him getting a little out of control when competing with Buttercup, Butch had toned down his craving for attention. He realized how toxic his behavior would get during those times, and if he truly wanted to be a better person, then he needed to forgo the need for others' praise. Butch did not want to lose a sense of his morals just because of a sporting match.

It was not worth it to him anymore.

His main focus now was keeping his grades on track and avoiding trouble like Him wanted, graduating, making Blossom happy, and getting on the Olympic soccer team.

Butch did not need the spotlight anymore as he was afraid of being burnt out under it. Instead, he was finding himself enjoying the background more and more these days. It made him a calmer and more content person, the progress he would have never expected in any of his anger management courses.

Butch was becoming the person he had always wanted to be.

* * *

Rubbing his temples in frustration, Brick re-read his paper for Ms. Keane's class. He already was not a fan of her writing assignments but the redhead felt this was the worst one yet. The homework called for Brick to reveal his innermost thoughts and secrets, and if he was not telling anyone those things, why would Ms. Keane expect him to write a paper about them?

Finding a flaw was easy for him since everyone already decided what he was going to be. All week, everyone said Brick was going to struggle with the paper since he was Mr. Perfect—Brick was pretty sure it was Buttercup who started the trend for calling him that. He ended up writing the two pages about how tiresome it waa to be seen as perfect all the time and how he wished people could see the struggles he has been through in his life. It was not his best work, but for a paper full of bullshit, he did not care—it was at least passable.

Lying on the assignment was not the best decision to make but Brick did not care. He was not going to lay out all his faults for Ms. Keane to entertain herself with the pitfalls of her students. As a personal preference, Brick liked to keep to himself unless one was trusted—so far, Blossom and Bubbles were the only people he has truly opened up to.

Blossom knew more about him as a person, such as his home life and his morals—or lack thereof; while Bubbles had the knowledge of his father's death. Both of them could see how flawed of a person Brick was. That he was nowhere near perfect.

Unless anyone tried to get close enough to psychoanalyze him, no one but those in his—former—friend group at the Academy had a good enough understanding of him. Despite that, the five still do not him pin-pointed down exactly. Blossom was probably the closest, given their situation, but Brick knew Buttercup had a few suspicions of her own. The green-eyed teen was somewhat onto something.

She was close to finding out the truth.

That Brick was no perfect at all but that he did not even bother to try hiding it.

He was incredibly selfish, disregarding other's feelings for his own gains—i.e. Butch's side of the whole love triangle. Brick could project his anger onto others—like the day in church with Bubbles months ago. He could be ruthless, just like when he stole the flag from Blossom or the fact he turned the football team against Butch's orders during the Homecoming game.

Not to mention, Brick found himself to be an enabler for being upset about his father's death. Violence against women was never going to be okay, and he believed his dad got what he deserved but the knowledge of what happened reopened an age old wound of his. After choosing to never reach out and form a relationship, it made Brick feel a slight sorrow that he does not even have the option to choose now. He knew this was going to bother him for quite some time, but Brick believed it was better that he kept it to himself—he did not want anyone to tell him how to feel about it.

It also did not help that whenever he though of his dad and his relationships—or even his mom—a fear was installed into him. He has taken enough psychology courses at his old school to understand that abusive behavior may be hereditary. Both of his parents engaged their relationship with violence against each other, which meant both could have carried the gene over to him. This made Brick fear of being doomed to having only toxic relationships.

That was probably the underlying reason why he never engaged in a relationship. Saying he was too busy for one was just an excuse he was telling himself all along.

Yet, despite his precautions, here he was trying with Blossom, and Brick was willing to do anything to be with her. Hell, he was willingly betraying Butch, who after Blossom, was his closest friend at the Academy. It was not Brick's first time home-wrecking a relationship, but usually, those were one-night stands at parties and the guy never found out about his involvement. With Blossom, Brick wanted to date her. He could see himself falling in love with her—an idea he had never thought of until now. That was why he disregarded Butch. Brick knew what he wanted and he was not going to let it pass by.

Needless to say, it was hard for anyone to discover Brick's selfish decision-making because he was good at putting a mask on—per say. From witnessing his friend's own dismay from over-sharing personal details about their lives, Brick learned it was better to be the unproblematic friend than letting others know of his issues. That keeping his mouth shut about anything he was dealing with was better than having everyone know his business. It was the easiest way to stay out of drama but he also did it because he felt that no one truly cares.

Brick felt solace in knowing that everyone was trying to validate themselves for having their own issues without listening to the others who they seek validation from. Everyone was too self-involved or secretly craved hearing others problems to make themselves feel better about their lives.

Brick did not feel anyone could make him feel better about himself. He did not want their validation on how he should feel. The redhead just wanted to make his own decisions and deal with the consequences later.

However, being the unproblematic friend made him be viewed as perfect by everyone—as much as people do not want judge others on first interactions, that was what everyone seemed to do. Just being friendly to people he could not give two shits about and keeping his personal business to himself, was what madr everyone think he was perfect—it also helped that he excels academically and athletically while also being highly attractive—but atlas, those are the main reasons why.

Brick could care less about what they thought—with the exception of Blossom—but he did not feel the need to correct them. He knew who he truly was and he was not going to change a thing because it has gotten him this far in life, so what was the point of changing now?

* * *

On the way to her destination, Buttercup began to reflect on the paper she turned in for Ms. Keane's class earlier that day. She listened to Boomer's remarks about her incapable of being vulnerable—a fact she was well-aware of and has been struggling with lately.

It was her biggest flaw.

It made her unapproachable and not a kind person. She had unintentionally isolated herself in the process of believing that being bare with her emotions was a sign of weakness. All her life, Buttercup has prized the image of being a strong independent woman but had radicalized the idea.

As a youth, Buttercup had always took notice how differently Eastern Asian women were treated by society—moreso, how some American men viewed them. Having become a film buff at the age of five, Buttercup could not help connecting how films with Asian women were being typecasted. Each and every one were portrayed as submissive and gentle, delicate beings. The idea of these women was engraved in her head as she developed a tomboy persona throughout elementary to avoid being compared to them.

When she turned 12 and began exploring on the internet, she discovered how deeply Eastern Asian women were fetished by the masses. Unsettled by the images of those who looked like her being seen as toys for men's delight, Buttercup further resented anything that was feminine. And as an ignorant pre-teen, she associated femininity with emotions.

It was then when she stop practicing Buddhism—despite her parents protest—because she believed it would weaken her. That it simply did not fit into her lifestyle. Buttercup then decided all religions were a waste of time because they always sought for their followers to be vulernable and open to achieve a closeness with their form of God/Gods. She only saw those beliefs as a way to slow everyone down. Buttercup did not realize how ignorant and hateful this thought actually was until speaking to Boomer about religion last October.

She became colder and more aggressive. Her personality became dominant, never opting to let anyone control her. But as Buttercup made this decision, she turned off any of her softer traits.

Sure, she was the strong independent woman that she dreamed of becoming, but it was all for the wrong reasons. Buttercup was strong because she overpowered those around her. She was independent because she drove away those who got too close. It was a miracle that even her group of friends now have remained, considering how rough she could be towards them.

She made the point to explain to Ms. Keane why she and Butch have barely ever gotten along. She wanted control and Butch was not a pushover; it was a dangerous mixture. If Buttercup was not so abrasive for the last three years, she could not help feeling as if the two would have been really good friends, considering how much they have in common and that she occasionally found him to be funny.

It was her bitchiness that came from the radical approach of wanting dominance that made Buttercup connect more with Blossom than Bubbles. Blossom talked shit about everyone but always hid her true self in fear of what others may think. However, Buttercup liked how blunt and icy the redhead could be when they first met because she valued those same traits. Looking back on it, knowing what she knew now, Buttercup was sure they would have never been friends.

Blossom was another Princess. Manipulative, self-absorbed, and always seeking a popular opinion. The only difference was that Blossom was more keen at hiding it, which in Buttercup's eyes, made her worst.

Despite this, Buttercup could not ever hate Blossom if she tried. She understood the reasons why the redhead was like this way, but she did not agree with Blossom's choice to continue the ill morals her parents' passed down to her. Unlike Blossom, Bubbles did not let the sourness in her life to define herself. Bubbles actually learned to grow from it and became a better person.

In all retrospect, Buttercup should have become more close with the blonde than Blossom. Bubbles would have convinced Buttercup how wrong she was about needing to be strong all the time, long before all of this. Buttercup firmly believed she would have become a totally different person.

A better person, most likely.

Not that she was going to put all the blame on her but Blossom had no help in any aspects of Buttercup's growth. Actually, she might have digressed because of some of it, as Blossom also brought out the real bitch in her. All the times they treated Bubbles poorly just for believing she had a close friendship with them as they did with each other, was appalling.

Buttercup did not want to be that person anymore.

Her decision to protect herself from what people perceived of her had deeper effects than she realized until a few months ago when she and Mitch were together. Their relationship made her figure out how withdrawn she had become. How trapped she felt in her emotions until she broke down. If Bubbles did not speak to her that night and reassured how valid and natural it was for Buttercup to be vulnerable, then she was sure that she would still be on a downward spiral.

It was their conversation that made her realize her belief system of being emotionless—except for aggression and anti-femininity—was traits of toxic masculinity. She had become an idea that she loathed with every fiber of her being.

As an outspoken feminist, Buttercup felt like she was being a hypocrite for carrying out this behavior.

That was why the green-eyed girl had decided to strip away her wall of invulnerability and aggression. Recalling Bubbles' words about being vulnerable taking a lot of strength, Buttercup determined to restructure her idea of a strong independent woman but also to redefine herself for the better.

And she knew the perfect way to begin her journey of self-growth.

"Buttercup?" Boomer questioned as he opened the door to his dorm, revealing the dark-haired girl behind it. The surprise on his face shifted to a cool grin, "What's up?"

"I've been doing a lot of thinking lately," she answered, rubbing her arms awkwardly. "And I was wondering if you would still be willing to teach me about Buddhism again?"

"It's about time," the blond beamed, letting Buttercup into his room and closing the door behind them.

* * *

"Have a nice afternoon," Ms. Keane called out as the bell dismissed her students to end the school day. She smiled wearily as her eyes landed on one of her redhead students as they were on their way out of the room. "Miss Blanchette. May I have a few words with you?"

Blossom, who was holding Butch's hand, inhaled sharply, glancing at Butch for a sense of comfort.

"That's a first," he teased lowly.

Blossom narrowed her eyes at him, not unamused. "Not funny."

Butch smiled sheepishly at her reaction, "I'm sure she just wants to praise you about your paper or some shit."

"Maybe."

"And I would love to stay and wait for you, but I have practice to get to."

"Right." Blossom forced smile, kissing his cheek.

"I'll see you later," he grinned, pecking her forehead before leaving the classroom.

Hesitantly, Blossom sulked over to Ms. Keane's desk. She was fully aware on why her teacher wanted to speak to her, but it did not make her feel any better about it.

"Yes, Ms. Keane?"

Ms. Keane smiled softly to ease any tension or fears Blossom may feel as she handed a paper to the redhead, "I want to discuss the paper you turned in last week."

"Okay," Blossom said shortly, grabbing the paper.

"I'm sure you know why I'm bringing this up since you only submitted one sentence for a two-page assignment."

"I'm aware."

"And while I'm alarmed that one of my star students is turning in a paper that signifies no effort put in, I'm more worried about the content that is written on the paper."

Blossom glanced down at the paper in her hand, reading the sentence for the nth time in the past week.

" _I, Rosemarie Penelope "Blossom" Blanchette, am, in no way, a good person nor will ever be one; I am utterly a terrible person_."

"Is everything alright, Miss Blanchette?" Ms. Keane questioned as Blossom returned her gaze to her teacher. "I've noticed the unusual tension between you and Buttercup lately but also that you've been more withdrawn in class than normal."

"I'm fine," Blossom said meekly before becoming angry with herself for not being able to sound more convincing.

"Are you sure?" she pressed. "Because if you need someone to speak with, I'm always here. Or if you prefer a professional ear, the school's psychologist is available."

"I'm fine, Ms. Keane," Blossom replied, forcing a smile again. "Thank you for your concern, but I'm good."

Ms. Keane raised an eyebrow firmly, "Then can you explain the reasoning behind your paper?"

"I…" Biting on her bottom lip, Blossom could not accumulating any valid reasoning to the assignment she had submitted. Without a second thought, the redhead turned on her heel, running out of the classroom despite Ms. Keane calling out for her.

Once she turned the corner, Blossom leaned her back against the cool surface of some lockers, catching her breath. Her chest rising and falling at a steady pace. She noticed a few classmates glancing at her from the corner of her eye, whispering to each other in secret. Blossom felt her pulse thicken, disturbed by their judgemental stares. Pushing against the lockers, Blossom quickly walked away from the area, glaring at the group out of humiliation.

She made a byline to her dorm room, not acknowledging any of the individuals who greeted her on the way there. Upon opening the door, she slammed it shut with her back. Lowering herself to the ground, Blossom felt her throat tightening as her breaths grew shorter.

"Blossom?" Buttercup questioned, peering her head around the corner. Her eyes widened at the sight of tears racing down Blossom's porcelain skin. Not giving a single hesitation, Buttercup went to her side, kneeling down and rubbing circles into Blossom's back. "It's okay, Blossom. You're okay."

"It's… not… I'm so… dumb," she hyperventilated in between her weeping.

Buttercup lifted her chin, staring into the Blossom's pink eyes, "Why are you saying you're dumb? What happened?"

"I… I…" she hiccuped, unable to speak coherently.

"Take deep breaths, Blossom," Buttercup advised, doing them with her. She smiled softly, noticing Blossom's breathing was at a stable pace. "That's better. Now, what's wrong?"

"I… Please don't hate me," she sniffed.

"Blossom, even when you're pissing me off to no ends, I can't ever hate you."

Blossom smiled weakly at the remark, wrapping her arms around her roommate. "Me too."

Buttercup held onto her tightly, savoring their moment of truce as it was the first civil interactive they have had since New Years. A few seconds passed before Blossom pulled away, wiping her face and staring downwards. She felt more water crept out of her eyes as she spoke.

"Buttercup… I cheated on Butch…" she sobbed.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Hey everyone, I just want to take the time to address some reviews I've gotten.**

 **Thank you to those who pointed out a few grammar mistakes I've made. I am very slowly fixing these mistakes in the chapters I have already posted. But thank you because it helps me become a better writer and makes this story more enjoyable and easier to read.**

 **On why there is so much social justice aspects to my story, I have a lot of reasons. One of them is that I believe these characters are smart young adults who are always going to have opinions, and some of them are going to be socially conscious because that is apart of their character. Personally, I am a very social-minded person—I am a political science major—but I just feel like that aspect is something that will always be apart of life. I want to make my take on these characters to be as real as possible but also relatable. Their beliefs, religions, ethnicity, etc. are details about them. When I make chapters like the previous one, it was not for anything about social justice, but more for giving more background to the characters but also shows growth or maturity the characters have about certain things. It helps me making them more real as I can. And as I say this, I know this chapter was a bit preaching in some aspects but, like I said, it is for building their character. But most of all, I do not want to offend anyone and I do apologize for making the reading less fun.**

 **For storylines...**

 **I would like to say every storyline written, obviously, has a purpose. Whether it is a short, one chapter plot or that it is overarching. I even have a sequel outlined and I am already foreshadowing some things from that. There is a lot character growth coming—or for some, lack there of because it is apart of the plot. Things that were relevant in the first few chapters, will be in the last few chapters or the middle chapters. Also, things that are simply mentioned but not explained will be addressed sooner or later. It will all tie back together. So if a storyline seems short, it really is not. Moreso, I usually like leaving things off in a cliffhanger sense because there is bigger thing coming—i.e. Bubbles' dad and Blossom/Buttercup's fight. I would like to divulge more but it would spoil a lot.**

 **Btw, to the person who asked me about why Blossom does not like Princess, it is explained in chapter 8. The Robin part will be addressed later...**

 **With Boomer, I have to admit, I dropped the ball. I wrote the outline for this story like a year or two ago, and it was not until the last few chapters that I forgot to add a sole main storyline for Boomer. The other five all have one except for him. He, however, will be featured more prominently for a few major storylines for other characters coming up and will have a shared plot with Bubbles at the end. Also, he will be getting more attention in the sequel that I have planned. I know it is not ideal for anyone that is a Boomer fan, it just happened. I am sorry.**

 **For Robin's character, she still has a storyline from Homecoming that will become relevant again. She will be getting a lot more attention soon enough...**

 **Same with some other secondary characters...**

 **On length...**

 **Like I said, I have an outline. I already have each scene laid out, just not the details or dialogue. I just know when it happens, what is happening, and how it ends. So some chapters end up shorter than others because a lack of content in my outline for that chapter. That was the case for the previous chapter as I cut out a storyline with Butch because it was irrelevant to me. I actually combined two chapters for the previous one because I knew it was too short and then I switched around this chapter with the next one. I am just as dissapointed when a chapter is too short but I cannot help it sometimes because that is just how the pace of the story is going. I think after this chapter, however, the chapters will get lengthier because there is more storylines all coming together at once. So I do apologize for the length problem and I hope it will get better.**

 **Blossom's character in the previous chapter...**

 **Oh my god. I have to say, yeah, my bad on that one. It was rushed to say the least but I changed her scenes so many times last chapter. At first, her and Brick were going to get angry at each other and get in a huge fight which would cause them to bicker in and. Keane's class but then I decided to change it because it did not fit the other storyline I have for Blossom individually. So I changed it after weeks of thinking it over. But I do think I gave a good reasoning over why she decided to stay away from Brick in the last chapter. It was not the first time I have written that she was worried about people finding out or that she is tired with how she is (Chapter 7). I did feel with Ace's comment at the party, did allude that she was going to make a brash decision. It could have been fleshed out more, I admit that.**

 **Okay. I am done. Sorry for it being lengthy and if it came off too rough.** **Thank you for bring this stuff to my attention because it was also a few concerns I was having on my own. It makes me more aware of better ways to write. Als** **o, I will always be welcomed to any comments, whether positive or somewhat negative because it does helps me _a lot._**

 **Thank you!**


	15. Best Of Frenemies

"What do you mean that you _cheated_ on Butch?" Buttercup questioned, narrowing her eyes. She watched as Blossom's bottom lip trembled, struggling to form a coherent sentence.

"It… New Year… Brick… I'm sorry…" was all Buttercup could make out from what Blossom rambled between her sobs. The redhead covered her face, hiding the tears that stained her cheeks.

"Blossom," Buttercup clutched her shoulder, trying to get her roommate to look in her eye. "You need to calm down again. You're making zero sense."

Blossom slowed down her breathing again, attempting to gain control. Her whole body was shaking as she spoke, "It was New Years… Brick and I were talking about us…" she panted between breaths. Buttercup felt her body light up in anger at the mention of Brick's name but allowed the redhead to continue, "Then I… I kissed him... Which then led to—"

"You had sex with him?" Buttercup exclaimed.

Blossom shook her head, her cheeks become inflamed from embarrassment, "No… He stopped me… From furthering it…"

"So you wanted to have sex with him?" she asked to get a better understanding of the situation.

"Yes…" Blossom whispered, her voice cracking. "And then I ended things…"

"Good," Buttercup nodded. Now she knew why he no longer sat with them during lunch.

"But… we kissed last week in his dorm room."

"You mean his _and Butch's_ dorm."

Blossom began to hyperventilate again, feeling more ashamed than ever, "I-I-I'm just… Confused?"

"It's not that confusing, Blossom," Buttercup said firmly, meeting Blossom's bloodshot eyes. "You just need to stay away from Brick because he brings out the worst in you. Okay?"

Blossom nodded, knowing this was the best option for her. It was what she tried to do a few weeks ago.

"Okay."

* * *

Principal Him smiled widely at the two students who sat before the desk in the office, eager to explain a proposition for them. The two students, however, were not as excited.

The two students being Butch and Buttercup.

After being called out of their respective first classes of the day, the raven-haired individuals were surprised when they both were brought into Him's office together. This has not happened since their huge fight the year before.

Both glanced nervously at each other, quickly averting their gazes when they made eye contact. Butch tapped his foot impatiently, arms folded while Buttercup slumped into the chair, resting her chin on the palm of her hand as her elbow was propped on the armrest of the chair as they waited for Him to speak.

Sliding into the only empty chair in the room, the principal greeted the students, handing them each a pamphlet.

The two furrowed their eyebrows at the paper, reading the title of the first page.

"Soccer camp?" Butch questioned, twisting his face in confusing.

Him nodded, "I want to send you to an exclusive soccer workshop for the week."

"But soccer doesn't start for almost another month."

"I know, Miss Soto, but I do know that you and Mr. Santos are the best players on our respective teams—which means you'll most likely end up being captains. As a huge fan of soccer, I have high hopes for both teams winning a championship this year because of the two of you." They grinned at the compliment but were slightly crept out that Him was the one who said it. "However, I am wary of your leadership skills, therefore, I suggest you should go to the workshop. It will help with the fundamentals of being a leader while also learning more about the sport and new plays to use."

"I'm not saying this is a bad idea because I love soccer and I could use some tips on being a leader," Butch said. "But how does this factor in with our academics?"

Buttercup raised an eyebrow out of curiosity, caught off guard by Butch's concern over school work.

"Your teachers will be emailing you any assignments you'll be missing and you'll also be receiving an extra day to turn anything in when you get back," Him explained, proud of Butch's obvious progress on taking school more seriously.

"Sweet," Butch grinned.

"What about the budget?" Buttercup asked flatly. "Who's paying for this? Us?"

"It's all expenses paid, thanks to a donation made by the Morbucks' family." The green-eyed individuals cringed at the name as Him continued, "We have purchased a hotel room for the two of you, rented a van for you to drive there and back, and you'll be given money for food."

"And who will be supervising us?" Butch questioned.

"No one," Him replied, shocking both of them. "You'll be alone at the hotel and when traveling. The only time you'll have adult supervision is at the workshop. That's it."

Both stirred in their seat, uneased by the news.

"Um…"

"Is there any problems with that, Buttercup?"

The dark-haired girl shook her head, even though she had her apprehensions. Did she really want to spend a week with Butch? She was not sure… but this was an amazing opportunity. Therefore, she figured it must not be that bad to be with him.

It _only_ was a week, anyway.

"Great," Him grinned. "You'll be leaving this afternoon at 4."

* * *

Jonathan Utonium has spent his entire teaching career at Townsville Academy. An alumni of the school himself, he knew there was nowhere else he wanted to teach. After finishing a successful stint in biochemistry dealing with radioactive materials for the national government, John decided to give back and become a teacher to help shape the young minds of the future. Working at the Academy has certainly brought down his stress levels but also there was nothing more John loved doing than bonding with or helping his students. Because of this joy he had for his work, Professor Utonium would always approach his classes with the same amount of peppiness and encouragement—even when it was 7 o'clock in the morning with his first class of day where most of his students were half-asleep.

"Good morning everyone," Mr. Utonium greeted, entering his full classroom with a pep in his step. He grinned happily to the yawning faces that stared back at him. "I have exciting news… We're going to begin a new project!"

His enthusiasm woke up a few of the students, who grimaced bitterly at the fact. Others were on the edge of their seat due to him saying they will have a project.

"Each of you will be doing a presentation on the progression of the atomic theory. But…" he paused dramatically. "I have assigned each of you a partner to work with."

Almost his entire class let out a sigh of relief at the news except for two individuals—those two being Brick and Blossom. Both felt their bodies tense up at the news, having the slightest inkling that they may be paired together. With how things have been going in her life, Blossom would be surprised if they were not.

It would be a sign that possibly the universe was not against her, after all.

As Mr. Utonium listed off each set of partners, Brick and Blossom waited impatiently for theirs'.

"Brick… you're going to be with Rosemarie…"

Brick exhaled sharply at the announcement of Blossom's real name. Them being paired together will only bring trouble for both of them.

He glanced at her, attempting to meet her eyes. Blossom flickered her eyes briefly but returned them to the front of the classroom when she saw his.

This was exactly what she was trying to avoid.

* * *

With the sun-shining through the leaves of the tall oak trees and birds chirping in the distance, the students of Townsville Academy took a deep breath of the fresh air. They were finally allowed to eat outside once again, fixing the restlessness they all felt from being trapped inside for most of the day during the entire month of December.

Reclaiming their picnic table, Blossom and Buttercup were engaged in a conversation about her and Butch's week-long trip, sitting across from each other, as Butch and Boomer listened, giving occasion comments while eating their lunch.

"All expenses paid?" Boomer asked.

"And you're gone for a week?" Blossom continued.

Buttercup nodded for both questions, "Yup. Only the top high school soccer players in the nation get invited. It must have costed Him a shit ton of money to get us even considered."

"Maybe for me, but not for you, Buttercup," Butch commented. "You're one of best defensive midfielders I've ever seen—Even on the professional level."

"Are you kidding me? You're the best striker in the school's history," Buttercup challenged. "Didn't you break a record last year?"

"Yeah. Most goals made by a male player in the state of California," he grinned proudly. "But there's better players than me."

"I honestly doubt it."

"Really?"

Blossom cleared her throat, raising an eyebrow out of curiosity, and gaining the dark-haired individuals' attentions. They were too swept up in their conversation that they did not even notice Bubbles had joined the table.

"Hey Bubs," Buttercup greeted sheepishly. "What took you so long?"

"Well…" the blonde grinned eagerly, unzipping her backpack and pulling out a flyer. She laid it on the table, "I was just talking to Ms. Sedusa about joining this year's musical."

The four others at the table peered down at the flyer, reading the bright, bubbly font.

 _Spring Musical: Grease_

 _Auditions on Tuesday 4 P.M._

 _Better shape up if you want a part!_

" _Grease_?" Buttercup grimaced.

Bubbles nodded joyfully. "It's one of my favorite movies and I feel like I'm perfect for the role of Sandy," she explained. However, she did leave out part of her reasoning. She wanted to use this as a distraction from thinking about contacting her father but the others did not need to know that.

"You're perfect for anything that you set your mind to," Boomer commented, kissing her temple.

Bubbles smiled at him as Blossom spoke, "You should do it. When I did _Chicago_ sophomore year, it was one of most fun times I've ever had. Plus, I'm supposed to choreograph this and you were exactly what I envisioned for Sandy."

"Then it's settled," Bubbles clapped. "I'm going to do it."

The five began a discussion about the musical, dissecting the story behind it and Buttercup's issue with Sandy's character development until the bell rang to dismiss them for class. Rising to their feet, Blossom quickly chased after Buttercup, even though she was heading in a completely different direction than her. Grabbing her arm, the dark-haired girl twisted around, her eyebrows furrowing in anger but suppressed it when she saw it was Blossom.

"I swear, if you were anyone else, I would have drop-kicked you."

"That's great," Blossom rushed, looking over her shoulder. "But I have a situation."

Buttercup arched an eyebrow, "What kind of situation?"

"A Brick situation," she whispered.

"What happened?" Buttercup groaned.

"Nothing… nothing yet. It's just… we were paired for a project in Utonium's class. Which means alone time and alone time can—"

"Blossom," Buttercup interjected, placing her hands on the redhead's shoulder. "You can do this. Just make it strictly business. No friendly conversations. Nothing. Just do the project and then it's over. You don't have to talk to him ever again afterward."

Blossom nodded, following Buttercup's orders but knew deep down, realistically, she was not going to follow them, "Okay. I will."

"Good. Now get to class, Pinky. You don't want to get in _trouble_."

* * *

"Please tell me that you'll be good," Blossom smiled, tapping Butch's nose. She was saying goodbye to him before his trip to Statesville. She was leaning against the white van that was transporting him and Buttercup—the dark-haired girl was already in the vehicle, wanting to avoid the couple's PDA and blasting _21 Savage_ from the car's radio—while Butch's arms were wrapped tightly around her waist, making Blossom feel constricted—or maybe it was the heaviness she felt when being around him now after everything that happened on New Year's. However, she still had a role to play.

She still had to be his girlfriend.

"I promise," he breathed on her lips, a sly grin on his face as he pressed against her's. Blossom could not get into it as much as she tried. It was not until she closed her eyes and started imagining it was Brick kissing her, did she start enjoying it. Despite how disgusting, wrong, and yucky she felt for doing so, she could not help it. Kissing Butch did not stir any emotions for her. There were no butterflies at all. It was just a plain, old kiss.

 _Correction_.

She did have a slight sting of remorse for thinking about Brick and wishing it was him that she was kissing. The thought made her feel filthier than she already was. Especially when she promised herself and Buttercup to discontinue those thoughts.

Blossom pulled back, not wanting to have more of a guilty conscious. "Well, I'll see you in a week," she said warily. "Next Thursday, right?"

"Yeah." Butch did not notice her tone, leaning his forehead against hers. "I'm going to miss you so much."

Blossom nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck, burying her head into his skin to avoid having to lie anymore to him. She did not want to disappoint him. She did not want to break his heart, but slowly and surely, Blossom already knew that she bound to do so.

"I love you…" she whispered, meaning it because she truly did. She just was not in love with him anymore.

"I love you too, babe," he said, kissing the crown of her head.

They stood together for a good minute, not letting go. For Butch, it was for the fact he would not be seeing his girlfriend for little over a week. For Blossom, it was because this might be one of the last few moments where everything has not changed; where Butch still loved her and she loved him.

"Yo. It's only a week. Suck it up," Buttercup shouted from the back of the van over the loud music—which was now playing an old _Childish Gambino_ song. "We need to be in Statesville in three hours for check in."

Butch groaned at the sound of Buttercup's voice, releasing his grip on Blossom. "I don't know how I'll deal with that for a week."

Blossom chuckled lightly, making sure to take a step away from the van so she would not be corner against it by Butch again. "You'll be fine. You and Buttercup have been getting along a lot more lately."

Butch arched his eyebrow, "What? No, we haven't?"

"Don't act like I don't see you cracking jokes with her in Ms. Keane's class all the time," Blossom pointed out, placing a hand on her hip. "The conversation at lunch today was extremely friendly too. Or that you haven't complained about her to me since…" she paused, trying to find the exact time stamp. Her eyes widening at the realization, "Since you were paired with her for Ms. Keane's project in September."

"I—what… no… I don't—ugh, forget it," Butch dismissed bitterly as Blossom grinned victoriously. At least she was still right about a few things.

"I would say you've somehow became friends," Blossom teased.

"That's a stretch."

"Fine… you've become chummy with her."

"I guess," Butch exasperated. "Doesn't mean I enjoy her company."

"Sure, you don't—"

Blossom startled as she was cut off by the beeping of the van's horn. Buttercup pressed it furiously, glaring at the couple.

"We need to get a move on. _Now_."

Butch exhaled sharply, leaning down to kiss Blossom one more time. He raised an eyebrow in question when Blossom turned her head for him to only kiss her cheek. She smiled sheepishly, pushing his chest.

"Go before Buttercup begins to draw a crowd."

He nodded, climbing into the driver's seat of the van. Rolling down the window, Butch met Blossom's eyes, " _Stay out of trouble_ ," he teased.

Blossom clammed up at the thought but saved face. Only her cheeks were tinted with a light pink to give anything away, "When don't I?"

Butch chuckled darkly to himself, "I can name a handful of times," he smirked, winking at her. Before Blossom could respond, Butch rolled up the window and the van pulled away, leaving her on the curb, lost in her troubling thoughts.

In the van, an awkward silence filled the small space as Butch and Buttercup waited for the other to speak first, knowing it will set the tone for how this week together will be.

"No fighting?" Buttercup promised.

Butch nodded, keeping his eyes on the road, "We'll keep everything completely civil."

"Sounds great," Buttercup smirked, turning her head towards the window to avoid any more conversation for now.

The thing was, both knew they did not need to make this promise. They both acknowledged to themselves that they were civil with each other now. There no longer was any heavy fighting—maybe more like occasional bickering.

They did not hate each other anymore.

Neither truly knew when it changed for them.

Buttercup thought it was when they did Ms. Keane's project because she realized just how much she relates with Butch.

While Butch pinpointed it as Homecoming when Buttercup told him about Brick's crush. In that moment, something clicked in his head that he knew Buttercup truly did not hate him. If she did, Buttercup would not have told him and allowed him to crash and burn—which would have happened, had he heard it first from Princess instead. It showed that Buttercup did care for him, to an extent, to be honest with him, but also it allowed him to trust her wholeheartedly because she was looking out for him even when they were not on good terms.

Maybe Blossom was right. Maybe he and Buttercup were friends now.

How did he not realize this?

* * *

Lounging on his bed while watching highlights from the latest playoff games on his phone, Brick flinched at the sound of knocking at the door. Dragging himself to open the door, he inhaled sharply, knowing exactly who was behind the wooden frame. Not even willing to fake any of the emotions he felt, Brick opened the door.

"Hey," he murmured, not even bothering to wait for a response or to close the door, as he took a seat on his bed, pulling out his chemistry notebook from his backpack.

Blossom arched her eyebrows but chose not to question him. She glanced around the room uneasily, trying to figure out where she should sit. Butch's bed and desk chair were available but Blossom felt she did not have the right anymore to take up his personal space even if he was not there. Her eyes lingered on Brick's desk chair as she hesitantly pulled it out from underneath his desk, plopping herself into the seat.

She did not know why she was making a big deal about where she sat, considering Brick did not even care—he kept his eyes glued on the notebook his lap, flipping through pages of his heavy but neat handwriting.

"So Utonium gave us the discovery of subatomic particles," he stated, destroying the awkward silence in the room. "I think we should start with discussing how cathode rays are created and a little background on J.J. Thomson." Brick looked up, meeting Blossom's hazed over eyes. "Does that sound good?"

"Does what sound good?" Blossom repeated, blinking herself out of the trance she was under. Her mind was fogged over with the thoughts of how bizarre this all was. How she just wanted to escape—but from what? Brick? Butch? Her parents? Herself?

Blossom was not sure anymore. She felt her skin becoming more irritating with the second as Blossom fought off the urge to scratch it. All this stress and anxiety was having detrimental effects on her health—she found a large pimple on her chin earlier that morning, an occurrence that has not happened since Blossom's dad paid a high-end dermatologist to eliminate any chances of acne when she first started puberty.

It seemed as she was waking up to how imperfect she was, the rest of her body was taking notice too.

It also did not help that almost every twenty seconds, Blossom had thoughts about straddling Brick and making out with him for an hour or two. She winced to herself, hearing Buttercup's voice of disgust in her head. How did she always end up in these situations?

Situations that lead to poor decision making?

"Hello? Are you there?" Brick questioned in a quiet tone. Blossom, having finally snapped out of her fogged mind, peered into his eyes. He appeared even more tired and distraught than the week before, if that was even possible. They both were suffering from this dirty little secret they had.

"Maybe… I'm not sure."

Brick sighed to himself, "I didn't—"

"How are you so good at this?" she blurted out.

"Huh?"

"Going on with your life? Being able to pretend nothing is going on here? How do you not feel guilty about anything?"

"Well, for starters, I didn't have someone I was cheating on."

"Cheap blow," Blossom frowned, narrowing her eyes, "But Butch is your friend and roommate. How is this not eating you alive?"

Brick shrugged, "I try not to have a guilty-conscience about more than one thing at a time. It keeps me sane."

"More than one?" she questioned, furrowing her eyebrows. "So there are more couples you're home-wrecking right now? Is this what you do? Chase after unavailable girls? You have some weird fetish or something?"

Brick chuckled at her irrational thinking. "No… you're the only girl I've really chased after," he confessed quietly. Blossom pursed her lips, opting to remain silent and trying to calm down the giddiness she felt from his comment.

"Then what is it?"

Brick rubbed his temples, "We shouldn't be having this conversation, Blossom. You know it. I know it… it's too personal… too intimate."

Blossom hung her head low, her bangs covering any sight of her face from Brick's view. "You're right," she muttered. Her eyes widened at the realization of what slipped out of her mouth, snapping her head up to see Brick's face. He only had his eyebrow cocked up. It was not the same amused—and adorable—face he made when, on the rare occasion, she said he was right. "What? You're finally over me admitting you're right?"

Displaying a sly grin that he could not hide if he tried anymore, Brick spoke, "Even when things are fucked up with you, I can't."

"Things are pretty messed up between us…"

"Duh."

"Do you wish…" she paused, not sure how this will be perceptive. "Do you wish things went back to how they were?"

Brick shook his head, folding his eyebrows, "Never… It would mean I would still be in constant agony about whether or not you like me…" His grin slipped out again, "Plus. I would have never had the opportunity to discover how amazing it feels when I kiss you."

Blossom blushed at the compliment, smiling widely. She then began to hear Buttercup's voice in her head again, disrrupting Blossom out of the lovestruck spell she was under. Groaning to herself, Blossom covered her face, "How do you do this?" she muffled through her hands.

"Do what?"

"Change so quickly… you go from being angry at me to moping around about everything, then to charming me once again. It's been a cycle for the last three weeks."

"Last time I recall, I was only angry with you for brief moment."

"Fine…" Blossom exasperated, uncovering her face. "But still. Every time I think we're finally finished, we pull each other back in. It's been a constant back and forth since the school year started."

Brick nodded, "Trust me. I know."

"Aren't you tired?"

"I am… but it's not my decision," he acknowledged. Blossom felt a cloud of darkness overcome her like it has for the past couple of weeks. Brick just had to keep throwing that in her face—and she did not blame him. If she was in his position—which would _never_ happen because Blossom would not ever be the second option—she would use the same line too.

"Which is why the guilt is eating me alive," Blossom confessed, knowing this was not what Buttercup would want for her. "I want to break up with Butch so badly but I can't break his heart."

"It's fine, Blossom," Brick dismissed, retiring his gaze to his notes, flipping a page in them. "You've made your decision. There's no need to make more excuses."

"But…" Blossom stopped herself, not wanting to start a fight between the two. "... Can I ask you a question?"

Brick exhaled loudly, "Go ahead."

"How are you not mad at me?"

"... because I don't want to project anything on to you," Brick said hesitantly.

"What?"

"I'm not mad at you. But I am upset about something else and I've been having trouble dealing with it... If I let myself get angry, I know it wouldn't be purely towards you and I don't want to take anything out on you," Brick revealed.

"Why? Because of us?" she questioned. "Are you mad at yourself?"

"The second part is correct…" he sighed. "It has to do with Ms. Keane's project the week that you..." Brick trailed off, not wanting to finish his sentence as Blossom nodded.

"The ancestor one?"

He nodded, "That one."

Blossom gasped to herself, her mind coming to the realization, "You found out about your father, didn't you?" Brick nodded again. "Oh my god, Brick. How—what...um… did you contact him?"

"No."

"Is it like Bubbles' case where her dad lives close by but hasn't reached out?"

"No," Brick repeated, growing more disheartened by her probing.

"Then—"

"He's dead, Blossom… My dad is dead..."

* * *

Stepping into the Academy's auditorium, Bubbles squinted her eyes due to the bright lights as she walked to the main stage. She observed the others auditioning, noting Dee Dee and Princess were among those participating. Once the blonde stepped onto the stage, Dee Dee ran over to her.

"Oh my god, you're trying out too?"

"Yes!" she grinned brightly.

Dee Dee began jumping up and down, clapping, "Yay! This is the best news ever!"

Bubbles joined her, jumping up and down with her, "I know! I cannot believe we're doing this together."

"Are you blondes really that stupid?" Princess insulted, interrupting their moment. She stared at them like they were filth, "You're both probably trying out for Sandy, meaning only one of you will be in the play."

"Wait… are you trying out for Sandy?" the blondes asked simultaneously. "You are? Oh my god! This is horrible..."

Princess muttered under her breath, "Idiots."

"Well um…"

"This doesn't mean anything, Dees. We're still friends despite what happens," Bubbles reassured. "A little friendly competition never hurt anyone."

"You're right," Dee Dee agreed, smiling. The two beginning to express their excitement for the play to each other, unaware of the mischievous grin spreading across Princess' face. This was just the perfect opportunity for her to have a _little_ fun with the two blonde dimwits, she thought. She just had to figure out the right time to wreck their precious friendship and sabotage them both into embarrassment.

* * *

"Wow…" Buttercup marveled at the building, entering through the hotel's revolving doors. The decor of the lobby was mid-century modern meets rustic cabin. It was fitting for the location—it was in the middle of California's farmland and near some of the redwood forests. "Him sure did fork over a lot of money for us."

"Huh," Butch huffed, struggling with both of their luggage—he had loss a bet that two made during a game of _ispy_ on the way there. He dropped their bags on the ground, looking up to get sight of what Buttercup was talking about. His eyes widened in amazement, "Either I don't get out much or this is the nicest hotel I've ever had the chance to stay at."

"Uh huh," Buttercup nodded. The two continued to scan the room, their mouths agape, wanting to take in every aspect of the lobby—not realizing they were blocking the entrance for the other guests.

"Excuse me?" a man tapped on Butch's shoulder. "But if you lovebirds are done looking like a bunch tourists, it would be nice if you could move over."

Butch nodded, pushing the luggage over with his feet. He could not figure out why the guy's comment made his face feel flushed. Thankfully, his natural tan pigment hid it from being noticeable.

Buttercup narrowed her eyes at the guy, seething at him for calling them "lovebirds".

"Let's check in," she grumbled, moving forward without Butch's response.

Butch rolled his eyes, looping his wrist around the straps of the luggage. He could not find the right balance this time, knocking one over as he got a hold of a different one. After three minutes of struggling, Butch finally had all the bags in his grasp and walked over to the front desk. When he arrived, it appeared that Buttercup was at wits with the worker—her name tag indicated that her name was Laura—at the desk.

"What do you mean that we only have one room?" she exasperated. "There must be a mistake."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Soto, but from the receipt we have of the purchase, one room was ordered for the week."

"Him can get so much money from Blossom and Princess' dads, and yet, he can't spare any more cash for an extra room?" Buttercup whispered to Butch once she noticed him.

He chuckled, "There has to be some way to convince her."

"Right…" She turned back to the worker. "Does it change your mind that we're two high school students and are of the opposite sex," Buttercup explained to Laura. "We can't share a room together. It's indecent."

"Why would it…" she raised an eyebrow at the two, figuring they were a couple. Buttercup got a sense of what she about said, sending daggers to the woman and shaking her head no. Laura forced a professional smile but the fear in her eyes was easily expressed. "Okay. Well, there's not much I can do about it unless you pay for an upgrade."

"How much would that be?" Butch questioned, not feeling as outraged as Buttercup but did share the same lack of enthusiasm for the rooming situation.

Laura glanced at the computer in front of her, searching through their database. "It seems that we're pretty booked up for this soccer workshop we're holding this week…" she trailed off, scrolling down. "But we do have a one more room available that will have more than one room."

"Okay… how much is it?"

"It's the "penthouse"," she said sheepishly. "So it would be about 5,000 more than what you paid for."

"Fuck—"

"—That shit," Buttercup finished. "We'll just take the one room," she decided, reaching out for the room key that laid on the desk counter.

"Perfect," Laura smiled. "Hope you have a wonderful stay."

"Yeah, whatever," Buttercup grumbled, heading towards the elevator with Butch chuckling and trailing behind her.

"What floor?" he asked when entering the elevator. Buttercup leaned against the glass wall, glancing at the room key.

"Sixth."

"Aye. Hopefully, we get a nice view," Butch commented, punching the number in.

"Of what? The pool? That would get you _very_ excited, wouldn't it?"

Butch folded his eyebrows in confusion, "What? I… um… Blossom? Did you forget about her in the span of three hours?"

"Come on, Butch. You're not fooling anyone," Buttercup argued. "You can't just turn off your playboy antics."

"You think I cheat on Blossom?" he questioned, his voice laced with anger but also offensive. So much for thinking they were on track to becoming friends.

"Hell no… but do I think you still flirt and check other girls out? Yeah," she explained. "It's only natural for you to."

"But I don't," Butch replied as the elevator dinged, letting them know to get off. "I'm extremely loyal."

Buttercup chuckled darkly at him, staggering down the hall to their room. " _Too loyal_ ," she said under her breath, thinking about Blossom and the knowledge of her infidelity. Luckily, Butch did not hear her since he was struggling with the luggage again. Buttercup opened the room's door, leaving it cracked open for when Butch made it to the room.

As he creaked open the door, Butch heard Buttercup cursing up a storm.

"Are you fucking kidding me? I'm going to kill Him," she ranted, pacing back and forth in the room. Butch settled the luggage on the ground, joining her side to figure out what she was fussing about. His eyes immediately widened, realizing why Buttercup was pissed off.

"There's only one bed," he commented in disbelief.

"No shit, _Sherlock_ ," Buttercup seethed. "This is like the trip from hell. I just want to go back now… You think there's enough gas in the van?"

"You're going to leave?" Butch questioned. "Buttercup. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. One of the coaches here has played in the Olympics."

"How do you know?"

" _Google_."

Buttercup sighed, "I… I can't. This is way out of my comfort zone. I'm not going to share a bed with you, Butch. One, I get too hot in my sleep when I share a bed with someone. Two, I like my personal space. Three, you're…" she paused as Butch raised an eyebrow. Buttercup did not even know what to say. No insult came to mind. No snarky comment. Just a blank. "Um… you shouldn't be sharing a bed with another girl."

Butch nodded, "Which is why I'll just sleep on the floor."

Buttercup snapped her head towards him, meeting his eyes, "You're not going to sleep on the floor."

He shrugged, "I used to do it when my brother shared a room with me," Butch replied, recalling those unpleasant memories—it should be stated, sleeping on the floor, was not his decision. "I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" Buttercup asked. "I don't want to seem like a diva or anything."

"You? A diva?" he laughed. "That's a hilarious idea."

"Thanks," Buttercup said flatly. She ignored the small, tiny part of her that enjoyed hearing his laughter. It was one those belly laughs, that sounded a lot louder than it should. Buttercup tilted her head, noting if she has ever heard him laugh this much from anything Blossom has ever said. Sure, being funny was not the redhead's specialty but it seemed like Butch found a majority of what Buttercup had to say to be humorous. It actually freaked her out a bit.

Why was she even thinking about this, she reminded herself.

Butch shrugged his shoulders, a smile still on his face from his laughter. "You know I'm only joking, right?"

Buttercup nodded slowly. She knew he was telling the truth. Butch does not lie unless it was necessary—like protecting someone he cared about. It was strange how she was getting more familiar with how he functions. His act of kindness for sleeping on the floor did not even phase her. Butch has always been a kind-hearted person, as long as a person did not cross him.

She was only caught off guard that he did it _for_ her. That they have become friendly enough that Butch would sacrifice a week of comfortable sleep because of her—she knew how much the dark-haired male loved his sleep from Blossom's complaints about his snoring.

"...Thanks, by the way," Buttercup mumbled, digging the heel of her black _Vans_ into the tan carpeting of the floor. "For solving the bed situation."

"Oh…" his smiled faded, astonished by her gratefulness. Even if they were slowly becoming friends, moments like these still made it uncomfortable for both of them. "Um… no problem."

The two stared at each other for a brief five seconds, wondering what they should do next. Buttercup cleared her throat, interrupting the silence.

"I'm going to take a shower," Buttercup announced.

"Sounds good," Butch smiled, glad to get the awkward moment over with.

* * *

"I can't believe he killed your dad," Blossom commented mumly. Her hand lying on his knee in comfort as she had scooted the desk chair closer to his bed. Brick did not even notice since his mind was at war with the thoughts he has been trying to repress since talking with Bubbles. "How… how are you dealing with this?"

Brick shook his head, not wanting to divulge in the details with anyone besides himself—even though a small part of him _did_ want to tell Blossom. "I don't want to talk about it…"

"Brick… you can't keep this all to yourself. It's unhealthy."

"I've done it for the past eighteen years," he snorted. "I think I'll be fine."

Blossom chewed on her bottom lip, realizing she was right about her perception of Brick that she made an hour before the New Year's party. He wore a mask too but, unlike her, he does not force it. He does not put the mask on. It was just already painted onto him.

Brick allowed others to make their own judgments towards him, instead of defining himself. He was not going to correct anyone if they were wrong because he does not care about anyone else's thoughts but his own.

It makes sense why he had no regard about Butch. Brick was less emphatic than everyone else. He was selfish and his charming appearance easily covered this to those who did not actively tried to find out who he was. This was why Buttercup disliked him so much. Her intuitiveness from her father made her notice the red flags come off of him but mixed it up for perfection instead of what Brick truly was.

Her and Brick were both playing their roles in society, going along with what everyone else thought of them, but it seemed lately they both wanted out. They both did not want to be confined to the neat, little box they have been trapped in for years—or at least, that was what Blossom thought.

Her heart fluttered slightly at the thought of her's, now, understanding why she was so drawn to him at the beginning. He was the only one who would understand why she had the need to be perfect without judging or explaining why she did not need to because Brick was going through the same situation, just for different reasons. She felt it was corny to believe—and maybe Bubbles or Boomer were having an influence on her—but possibly they were kindred spirits.

If that was true, Blossom needed to understand that he will open up to her when the time comes because she would do the same. It let her know that she can let her wall completely down for him because he would get why it was up in the first place.

"Does anyone else know?" Blossom murmured, stroking her thumb against the fabric of the tight jeans that covered his kneecap. This captured his attention, feeling a shockwave of electricity from her touch, causing him to arched an eyebrow before speaking.

"Only Bubbles."

"Bubbles?" Blossom blurted out in astonishment and a bit of jealousy. "You told Bubbles of all people?"

Brick shrugged, smirking at Blossom's slight irritation at the fact, "She told me about her dad… we kind of had a moment."

"Did you end up kissing her too?" she quipped flatly.

"No. That's only reserved for you."

Blossom grinned slowly, "Good… I like it that way."

"Oh. I'm aware."

"Well… I'm guessing you're not aware of this…" she trailed off, inhaled heavily to muster up the amount courage she needed to reveal this truth to him. "But the real reason why I ended things between us, is because of Ace…"

"You made out with him too?" Brick joked to suppress the wave of anger he felt for being lied to.

Blossom grimaced at the thought, sticking her tongue out in disgust. "Gross."

"Then what is it?"

"I think… I think he knows what happened—between us."

"How? He's gone now. There's no way for him to find out."

"I know… but he told me something the night before he left… that he _knew_ what I did."

"And that's what your mind jumped to first?" Brick questioned, inching closer to the edge of the bed. His legs now were hanging off the bed with Blossom sitting in between them on the desk chair. "You didn't do anything to him before he left?"

"Well, I… oh my god. I'm such an idiot," she remarked, burying her head into his thigh and wrapping her arms around his waist. Brick ran his hand through her hair, tucking some strands behind her ear as she spoke, "He must have figured out I was the one who got him kicked out."

Brick raised an eyebrow, "You're the one who told Him? I thought that was Princess."

"Yeah. It was me."

"Impressive… I didn't know when you were threatening him, that you actually meant it."

"I'm not one to be crossed," Blossom grinned while he continued to play with her hair.

"Dually noted."

"There's actually more I need to tell you," Blossom sighed, lifting her head from his lap but kept her arms around his waist, pressing her chin against his chest, and tipping her head back so her eyes could meet his. "I don't know if you've noticed it but I have this obsession with being perfect."

Brick smiled softly, nodding. "I've acquired some knowledge about that."

"Yeah… well, I just want to point out it's not that I fully made myself that way… my parents had a large hand in my decision-making for the past seventeen years and…" she paused, feeling her eyes begin to water up a little. Blossom took a deep breath, attempting to continue on but could not formulate any words.

Brick cupped her face, pressing his forehead against her's, "You don't have to finish if can't. It's fine… I appreciate the effort."

Blossom nodded, thankful for his reassurances but she wanted to prove to herself that she can be courageous and vulnerable at the same time. Brick would not judge her nor would leave her when learning the truth—she just knew that. It was that knowledge that pushed her to continue on.

"I've dealt with a lot of abuse from them—emotional and mental. They always treated me like I wasn't worthy of being their daughter and that I was a disappointment… that's why I'm scared to be myself around everyone," she croaked as Brick stroked away the few loose tears running from her eyes with his thumbs. "I have to be perfect or I'll disappoint everyone… it's why I couldn't choose between you or Butch. I didn't want to feel any of the disappointment from the decision."

"It's fine…" Brick breathed, not caring about the love triangle anymore as he was more concerned about Blossom's current emotions and her abuse.

"It's not…" she mumbled. "I should be able to make normal decisions but I can't. They ruined me but the worst thing is that I allowed them to. I allowed myself to still follow their teaching because I had the small hope that one day…"

Brick pulled her into a tight hug, rubbing her back as Blossom began to sob into his shirt. "I understand… it's fine. As long as you're aware, then you're fine."

"I want to change…" she whispered into his shirt, her breathing becoming heavy. "I don't want to be a terrible person anymore."

"Then do it… do whatever you want, _Bloss_. It's your life. No one else's," Brick explained, pain in his voice for seeing Blossom crying. "I'll support you no matter what." He released her from his hug but still had a hold on her. Lifting her chin up, he gazed into her broken eyes. "And if everyone else doesn't realize you're not this unrealistic person, then they can fuck off. You don't need them."

Blossom nodded. "I'm coming to terms with it. I'm not perfect and I never will be… and I think I'm getting more comfortable with that thought now. I just have to stop worrying about everyone else, and I'll be fine."

"Good," he smiled. " _I'm proud of you_."

"For what?" she questioned but not hiding the joy she felt from someone finally saying they were proud of her.

"For wanting to work on yourself and for having the courage to open up to me," Brick replied, wiping away the last of her tears away. "I know it can be hard for you. I wish I could do the same..."

"It's alright. I'll be here when you're ready too," Blossom grinned, pleased with their ability to be open with each other.

Now that she thought about it, Blossom was actually surprised by how much she told him. In two more months, she would be with Butch for two years and yet, she has never told him any of this. Not that she did not want to but because she never felt comfortable doing so. Even when they had talked about the future, she could not find the strength to let him know how screwed up her life was.

She did not even tell him about her application to _Juilliard_.

All of these secrets she has been keeping from Butch. Perhaps the guilt she felt was not just from cheating but for never being honest with her boyfriend to begin with.

If this was true, then Blossom needed to end it.

She could never be herself around him.

However…

"I've finally made up my mind," Blossom blurred out, catching Brick off guard.

"Huh?"

"Between you and Butch. I've made my final decision…"

* * *

Tossing over to her side, Buttercup lifted her eyelids due to the inability to fall asleep, blinking at the bright red numbers staring back at her on the nightstand next to her.

 ** _2:38_**

She was not sure if it was the excitement of starting camp in the morning or the uneasiness she felt from the day before—From Butch sleeping three feet away from her on the ground. It was all too strange and exhausting yet she was too anxious with an active mind to sleep.

Buttercup tossed over again. And then again. And again.

Until she sighed in frustration, laying on her back and staring at the ceiling.

"Can't sleep?" She heard Butch's deep voice whisper through the darkness.

She nodded even though he could not see her, "Yeah…"

He chuckled to himself, plucking out his headphone from his ears, "Same… I've been watching episodes of _Belíssima_ since 10 o'clock," Butch confessed, his Portuguese accent coming out a little when pronouncing the show's name.

"What is that?" she questioned, flipping over on her side, to look over the edge of the bed to look down where Butch laid.

Buttercup felt bad, seeing him laying on the uncomfortable ground with only a thin sheet to separate him from the carpet. The woven blanket provided by the hotel was not enough to keep the dark-haired male warm—he did not like sleeping in the cold—so Buttercup gave him a spare blanket she brought with her. It was the least she could do for him but she still felt guilty.

"It's a telenovela about the importance of self-image—"

Buttercup snorted, bursting out into a hearty laugh, "You watch _telenovelas_?" she cackled, wiping away a tear.

He narrowed his eyes at her, lifting up his neck from the single pillow he had, "Um… yeah. In my mind, you can't be Latino if you haven't watched a telenovela."

"You're so weird."

"It's not weird."

Buttercup ceased her laughter, " _Sure_."

"If you must know, they are pretty popular with men too," Butch scoffed. "It's not like the bullshit soap opera stigma that's here."

"What stigma?"

"That they're only popular because of housewives. You know, cause women are—or were—expected to be stay-at-home moms."

"Wow…" Buttercup gasped at the realization. "I didn't know that… Does that make me a bad feminist?"

"No," Butch chuckled. Her ears perked up at the sound of his laughter, taking notice to the how his eyes crinkle up from smiling too widely. "You just didn't know. There's a lot of things we don't know. That's what is so crazy about life. There's so much to learn."

"Since when did you get so philosophical?" she smiled.

Butch tilted his head, turning on to his side and holding his head up by resting it on the palm of his hand from the arm he propped up to meet Buttercup's eyes. "I guess I'm just one of those things you don't know much about," he smirked.

She felt her body flinched. Slight notions of her uncomfortableness, Buttercup believed.

Did Butch just sorta flirt with her? She threw that question to the back of her mind. There was no way he would. Just no way.

"Like you know much about me," Buttercup dismissed.

"Let's see. You have a younger brother that you don't talk about much but you'll protect him at all cost. You secretly love watching _Gossip Girl_ and _Friday Night Lights_ because of the drama. Your favorite superhero is no one because you always love a good villain more," he listed.

Buttercup rolled her eyes, blowing a strand of hair out of her face, "Blossom probably told you all of that."

Butch arched his eyebrows like she was challenging him, "But does Blossom know that you listen to _Green Day_ before every soccer match?"

"How do you…"

"I can overhear your off-key singing from the locker room sometimes," he grinned. "You're not the only one who shows up early."

Buttercup blinked in confusion, "Are you secretly a creep or like…"

"Come on, Buttercup. We've been hanging out with each for over three years now. Even when I don't want to, I pay attention."

She wanted to say that, _yeah, he pays attention but not to his girlfriend and her cheating_ but Buttercup held her tongue.

"Well… um. Thanks, I guess."

"Making things uncomfortable, aren't I?" he questioned. "Too personal for us?"

 _Yes_.

She told him telepathically, however, a voice inside of her was saying for her to break away from the disquietude. She wanted to be more vulnerable. From what Boomer taught her a week ago, it was Buttercup first needed to break down the walls she held for her close friends. If she and Butch were becoming friends now, maybe it would help if she did open up to him.

"Maybe… but maybe we should start getting personal," she whispered. "Since we are starting to be…" Buttercup trailed off, both knowing what she meant. "And it's not like we're going to sleeping anytime soon."

He nodded, "Where should we start?"

Buttercup had two ideas in her mind that consumed her thoughts. She chose the safer one of the two.

"So you know that Mitch and I broke up?"

"Yeah. And now he's dating Robin," he grimaced. "I've kinda stopped hanging out with him after that, by the way."

"Why?" Buttercup raised her eyebrow.

"He cheated on you," Butch replied. "I would catch him hanging out with her all the time and they would get a little _too_ touchy but I didn't think much of it because I just thought they were friends… but then there was the Battle of the Sexes week when he asked about her," he thought to himself. "Wow… I should have saw it coming. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," she dismissed, although it did refreshen the wound of their break up. Her first boyfriend and he ended up cheating on her. What a lovely story.

"It's not. Cheating is one of worst things a person could do," he argued. "My brother used to do that all the time with his girlfriends. I always wanted to beat the shit out of him from breaking them apart like that."

Buttercup chewed on the inside of her cheek. Why did he have to make it so hard to keep this secret? It was not even her's to keep. What harm would it cause if she told him?

"Yeah… cheaters are the worst," she mumbled. Buttercup then cleared her throat, returning to the real reason she brought up Mitch. "Anyways, Mitch and I broke up before the Christmas party. I got shitfaced afterward like a fucking dumbass on an empty stomach—"

"Oooh. Beginners mistake," he chuckled.

Buttercup smiled softly, continuing, "—So then I started getting emo about the whole breakup. I went to one of the classrooms and cried my eyes out for a good thirty minutes before Bubs showed up."

"You cried?" Butch asked. There was a certain tenderness in his voice that Buttercup has never heard from him before. It must be the voice he used when he and Blossom were having an intimate conversation. It made her feel comfort and warmth but also like she was the only person to _ever_ gain his sole attention.

From now on, if there ever was moment where she questioned on why Blossom decided to stay with Butch after cheating, Buttercup will tell herself that it was because of moments like these with him. For how he had a certain way of making a person feel special with his love.

"Yeah." She cracked a disheartening smile. "But I was an emotional wreck because I drank a whole bottle of vodka myself. It wasn't fully about Mitch."

"I don't know. When I drink, I'm usually a fun drunk but when I have a lot on my mind, it affects my entire mood," he said. "What I'm saying is, if you're upset beforehand, you shouldn't be surprised when you start crying. It was going to happen eventually."

"Please," she dismissed. "I would never cry over Mitch."

"But you did," Butch pointed out.

"Well, I…" Buttercup sighed, realizing this was one of the ways that she tended to be dismissive. Like Boomer said, there was no reason to lie about emotions. "Fine. I did cry about Mitch."

"That's better." His mouth upturned but was resisting the thoughts of wanting to punch Mitch.

"It was actually good that we broke up," Buttercup realized. "Me crying was very therapeutic and it helped show me that I needed to reconnect with my emotions."

"Oh really?" He raised an eyebrow, peaked in curiosity.

She nodded, "Yeah. Boomer's getting me back into Buddhism too. The whole process is supposed to go hand-in-hand."

"I'm… Wow, Buttercup. That's huge," Butch rambled in delight. "It takes a lot to see one's faults and then to do something about it—That's something one of my therapists taught me."

"Right… your anger management courses, right?"

"Yeah," he sighed, gazing down to the woven cloth covering him, stroking his thumb against the texture. "If you want to know the truth, I never really paid attention in any of those sessions—"

"But you preach about them all the time."

"I wasn't finished," Butch grinned but kept his eyes on the blanket. "Anyways, the only thing I got from the experience was the importance of Christ, because like, every program has some religious nature tied into it—I actually converted from being Catholic to a Christian because I took more interest in their way of beliefs—Plus, I think Catholicism is too stuffy and dated."

"Don't tell that to Bubs," Buttercup quipped.

"We actually talk about this stuff all the time," he confessed. "Every Sunday, we walk to and back from our respective churches together. Afterward, we usually get lunch and then talk about any enlightenment we got from that week's session or we just talk about our different views on God. It's actually one of my favorite parts of the week, not going to lie," Butch smiled bashfully. "I've learned a lot from her."

Buttercup could not even correlate bashfulness with Butch, but yet, here he was behaving in that manner.

"It still blows my mind to this day how much you're invested in Christianity," Buttercup chuckled. "It just doesn't fit your personality."

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I think it does when I'm not "Public" Butch."

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone has a different way they display themselves in public and in private. In public, I'm more loud, obnoxious, and reckless. I can express my rebellious teen side, you know? But in private, I'm calmer, I need my alone time, and I can get in my head too much sometimes," he revealed. "Christianity helps me take a step back, reevaluate the situation, and approach life in the best way when I start overthinking. It's a comfort to me."

Buttercup pursed her lips in thought, "I actually really like that."

"Thanks… but um," he cleared his throat. "Besides this lovely conversation about religion, I was actually bringing up my therapy sessions for different reasons."

"Alright."

"So like I was saying, I wasn't paying attention, blah blah blah… then there was the fight with you last year," he said lowly.

Both of them flashbacked to the specific moment that happened exactly a year and a month ago. It was during a lunch period. Butch was pissed about not being promoted to captain on the basketball team after the former one pulled a hamstring, and Buttercup made a sly comment about something that was irrelevant to the topic but was directed towards Butch. In a matter of seconds, he snapped, throwing his soda at her and going on a tirade about how much he could not stand her. Buttercup, never one to back down from a fight, dumped her bowl of spaghetti they were serving for lunch on top of his head. She then went to attack the one thing she knew would piss him off the most—his relationship with Blossom.

Buttercup kept bring up how he did not deserve her, that he was lucky to even have Blossom know his name. That he was going to fuck up the relationship—that he was going to cheat on her.

It was that one single comment that made he explode, breaking the bench of the picnic table they sat at and then pushing Buttercup. She jabbed him back, and then it evolved to a scream matching into each other's faces until school security had to break them up ten minutes later.

Bubbles had balled her eyes out due to hating her friends fighting but also out of fear that they may be expelled. Boomer remained silent, shocked by the events. Then Blossom was more pissed about how the fight would reflect on herself and how much money it would cost her to get them both out of the mess. She was outraged that they could not control themselves.

However, Blossom did bail them out of the situation. A check for new auditorium microphones in exchange of both of them remaining enrolled and the promise of twenty hours of community service.

Neither spoke to each other for the next three months despite eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner with each other and the three others. It took Blossom having a breakdown about receiving a "B" on one of her finals and attempting to cheer her up, for them to put aside their differences.

The tensions from the fight still lingered throughout into the begin of the new school year. Not until homecoming, did it disappear completely. When they realized that they had the ability to put the past behind them.

Now when Buttercup looked back on the situation, she did not feel angry at Butch anymore. No grudges remained. She only felt irony for believing Butch would be the one to cheat. Buttercup obviously did not know him too well then.

Hindsight bias was an amazing thing.

Buttercup sat up a little, motioning for him to continue, "Yeah?"

"Well, after the fight and several weeks of making it up for embarrassing Blossom," Buttercup rolled her eyes. "I began to regret the whole thing and how I lashed out on you—How I should have never put my hands on you and that I never wanted to go that dark again. It made me realized just how much I _did need_ anger management. So during summer, I enrolled in the best one available and _actually_ paid attention…" Butch met her eyes despite the darkness of the room, "Indirectly, I learned to control my anger because of _you_."

Buttercup felt heat rising to her cheeks, "I… I don't think it was because of me… it was more about you taking action."

"I guess… but I still have to thank you for it. If not for the fight, I would still be an angry lunatic."

"Maybe…"

"I know it's weird to think that you've done something for me, but you know, you should give yourself more credit, Buttercup."

 _You've done something for me._

That statement infiltrated her mind. She felt powerless, unable to control herself as she spoke.

"It's not the only thing I've done for you."

"What do you mean? Are you talking about homecoming because—"

Buttercup shook her head, tightening her jaw, "No… I—You remember New Year's?"

"Um… no?" he chuckled. "I blacked out that night."

"Yeah. I know," she mumbled, regretting her word choice. Now she sounded like an idiot. "Anyways, you got blackout drunk. _So_ drunk that you fell down the hill that the mansion was on."

"I what?"

She ignored him, continuing, "I don't know how long you were down there from when I found you but the scrape you got on your arm told me it was long enough. I couldn't just leave you there, so I called an _Uber_ and took you back to your room."

"Oh…"

"I cleaned up your wound and tucked you," she finished. "I also put the trash can by your bed, so you can thank me for that decision."

"Buttercup… _Thank you_... I can't believe you did that for me," he whispered, perplexed by her.

She shrugged, "It's not that big of a deal."

"Yeah. It is. You took care of me after I was a complete idiot," he argued. "Not a lot of people would do that—especially for someone they _used_ to hate."

"Who said I stopped hating you?" she smirked.

Did she just flirt with him now?

Her body stuttered from disgust at the thought. She was not Brick. Buttercup would not flirt with someone in a relationship—nor would she flirt with Butch, she reminded herself.

"Then you're the best actor that I know," Butch grinned.

 _I'm not but Blossom was trying to be._

She shook her head, telling herself to stop having thoughts about outing her best friend.

"It's possible. I'm _great_ at keeping secrets."

"Better be," he chuckled. "A few of those things I've told you, no one knows. Not even Blossom."

What was it with these two and keeping secrets from each other? It was nauseating to her.

"What else are you keeping from her?" Buttercup challenged, not expected him to go along.

"I don't know if it's the lack of sleep or because just how open we're being, but Blossom doesn't know that I'm at risk of being expelled."

"What? Why?" Buttercup questioned, sitting up immediately, her eyes widened.

"Poor grades and behavior from the last three years," Butch replied. "It's just my responsibilities catching up to me."

"So what? You're going to be like Ace?"

"Not exactly. Him has given me a chance to prove myself. I've improved my GPA last semester, but I still have a little more progress to make up for it to be good enough," he explained. "I also have to avoid anything that would get me into detention."

"I've been wondering why you haven't pulled any pranks this year."

"You wonder about me?" he joked.

Buttercup felt flustered again, happy for the dark lighting as she sank back into the bed, "No."

" _Okay_ , Buttercup. Whatever you say," Butch sang.

She threw a pillow down to him, hitting his face. Instead of retaliating, Butch placed the pillow under his head. "Thanks. I needed another one of these."

"Whatever," Buttercup huffed but smirking. "But hey. At least you're taking responsibility, Butch. You've really grown in the past year."

"Thanks," he grinned proudly, happy that someone had taken notice to his efforts to improve himself.

"No problem…"

" _So_..." he trailed off once a silence hit the two of them. "What do we talk about now?"

Buttercup shivered from anticipation as she approached a topic that has plagued her mind all night—and maybe the past month and a half.

"Do you honestly believe Brick doesn't have feelings for Blossom?" she questioned rapidly. Blossom had informed her of the brief conversation her and Brick had about the topic. The red-eyed male said Butch had no doubts that Brick only had platonic interested in Blossom. Since hearing about the conversation, Buttercup could not help feeling sympathy for how blinded Butch was by his girlfriend.

"I did for a short time but I'm not an idiot," Butch answered, his light mood that he held the entire time they have been talking, dissipating. "I know he likes her but I trust Blossom. So I just don't worry about it."

"And why do you trust Blossom?"

Butch folded his eyebrows in confusion, "Because she's my girlfriend?"

"That doesn't matter. Mitch was my boyfriend but I didn't trust him."

"Okay," Butch shrugged. "I trust her because I love her."

"Love doesn't mean trust, Butch."

He rolled his eyes, "I know that… but I also know that Blossom loves me too. We have a plan, Buttercup," he countered, referencing to when they discussed their future plans together after Ms. Keane's religious assignment had brought up the topic. "We're going to date long-distance during college, get engaged within the year that we both graduate. Get married a year later, develop our careers for the next two and then we'll have a discussion on whether we want kids or not… that's our plan and I firmly believe it will work out."

"But—"

"I'm going to marry her, Buttercup. I have no doubts about it, so I'm not going to get worked up about Brick's little crush and start not trusting her out of jealousy," Butch interrupted, not wanting to hear any objections Buttercup may have. "I'm not that person anymore."

"Are you _really_ sure you want to marry Blossom?" Buttercup questioned. She was engulfed by the guilt of Blossom's secret, feeling suffocated.

"Why are you pestering about my relationship?" Butch deflected, narrowing his eyes.

"I'm just…" Buttercup sighed, trying to choose her words carefully. If she could possibly put doubts in Butch's head about his relationship, then he could break up with Blossom and this secret would not be relevant anymore. "What I'm saying is, do you _really_ know Blossom? Do you know about all the problems she has with her parents? How she is not who she presents herself to be?"

"What?"

"Butch. Can you not see how much Blossom is _so_ wrapped in the thought of being perfect? That she's not the same person from freshmen year?" Buttercup challenged. "The popularity got to her head. It awakened her past trauma with her parents and her need to please everyone."

"I don't understand…"

"That's because you're a victim to her illusion," Buttercup acknowledged. "Everyone is… well, at least, everyone but me—and I suspect, Brick too."

Butch's stomach lurched with jealous rage at the comment but ordered himself to calm down. He trusted Blossom. He loved her…

"Blossom wouldn't do that."

But what Buttercup was saying, it did raise a lot of red flags in his mind—like the avoidance of kissing him or the lack of discussion about her parents. Moments where Blossom's behavior was questionable at the time, now made complete sense. Maybe Buttercup did have a deeper understanding of everything.

If she did, then from the hinting she was making, Butch should not trust Blossom. That he should be suspious of Brick again.

It made him feel paranoia, and part of him was disgusted for now having doubts about his girlfriend but he could not erase the feeling that Buttercup was onto something.

"You don't believe me," Buttercup retorted, a sense of hurt was a little noticeable in her voice.

Butch sighed, "I just… it's Blossom. She wouldn't purposely hurt me…"

"It's whatever, Butch," she snapped. Buttercup could not understand why she felt so disrespected by him. Why she felt hurt by him. Grabbing the covers on the bed, Buttercup turned over onto her other side, her back now facing towards Butch, huffing in frustration. "This was nice but maybe it was _too_ nice.

"Come on, Buttercup. It's not—"

"Goodnight Butch," Buttercup dismissed, letting the silence of the room consume her. She heard him shuffle with his blankets, possibly turning over too. Maybe he was asleep now. All she knew was that she still could not fall asleep.

Unfortunately, she did not know Butch felt the same. He tried to close his eyes but they kept fluttering open on their own.

Neither wanted to admit that they could not sleep because of the emptiness they felt. The fulfillment they felt from having someone to confess to, quickly fading away. They both craved more of it—more of a conversation with each other—but they could not push their pride aside to admit it. So instead, they remained awake in the dark silence until the hotel's alarm-clock went off at 7 in the morning with both pretending their bonding moment never happened.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Hey everyone, I just wanted to take a moment and address each character's birthdate and age (at this point in the story) since I never got around to do it. I also added their zodiac signs because that is** **always fun. Anyways, here is the list and thank you for reading.**

 **Ace- December 27th (Sagittarius); 18**

 **Blossom- June 3rd (Gemini); 17**

 **Boomer- February 8th (Aquarius); 17**

 **Brick- August 13th (Leo); 18**

 **Bubbles- October 15th (Libra); 18**

 **Butch- October 30th (Scorpio); 18**

 **Buttercup- March 11th (Pisces); 17**

 **Dee Dee- May 1st (Taurus); 17**

 **Dexter- May 1st (Taurus); 17**

 **Mitch- June 22nd (Cancer); 17**

 **Princess- November 6th (Scorpio); 18**

 **Robin- April 18th (Aries); 17**


	16. Did I Get In?

"Guys! Guys! Guys!" Bubbles shouted over the courtyard, running over to the group's table—Buttercup and Butch were missing since they were still on their trip and Brick had recently joined the table again in their absence. Her frantic behavior gained stares from across the open space. Considering it was 7 in the morning, her classmates were not particularly happy with her yelling. When the blonde reached the table, panting and red-faced, she threw down a large, opened envelope onto the wooden surface.

"Bubs…" Blossom grinned, darting her eyes from the envelope to Bubbles. "Is that what I think it is?"

She nodded eagerly, jumping up and down, bouncing her blonde curls in every direction, "I got into _San Diego State_!" Bubbles squealed, clapping her hands together. "I'm officially college bound!"

"That's amazing, Bubbles," Brick smiled. "Congratulations."

"Same," Blossom rose to her feet, happily hugging the blonde. "I knew you had nothing to worry about."

"So do you know if you're going to commit there?" Brick questioned after the girls broke apart and took their respective seats at the table—Bubbles next to Boomer and Blossom sliding in beside to Brick, placing her hand secretly on his thigh. He briefly smirked at Blossom as her cheeks became a little pink before he turned his attention back to Bubbles. "Or are you waiting it out for _UCLA's_ offer?"

"Oh… I didn't apply," Bubbles shrugged nonchalantly, holding back any of her emotions of resentment towards the fact.

"What?" Brick exclaimed in shock.

"Are you serious?" Blossom questioned in the same state of surprise as Brick. "I thought after your talk with Buttercup…" she trailed off, recalling the dark-haired girl's attempts to convince Bubbles to be independent. "I mean, why didn't you apply?"

"The same reason as it was months ago," Bubbles smiled softly, wrapping her arms around Boomer's shoulder, snuggling her cheek against his. "To be with my Boomy."

Boomer, who remained silent the entire exchange since Bubbles' announced her exciting news, smiled halfheartedly at his girlfriend, " _Right..._ "

"So Boomer, you got in too?" Blossom inquired, arching an eyebrow.

"I haven't checked my mailbox yet," he said shakily. His blue eyes glanced around the table, hoping they would believe him.

"We should go with you during lunch to check," Brick suggested.

"Yeah. That sounds—"

"What about you?" Boomer interjected, fixating his eyes on the two redheads, cutting off Bubbles, who pouted at the fact. "Have you gotten in anywhere yet?"

" _Actually..._ " Brick grinned widely, "I've already verbally committed to playing football at _Stanford_ in the fall."

"Oh my god," Bubbles gasped, beaming. "That's amazing!"

"Yeah… it really is," Boomer mumbled. He cleared his throat, not wanting to get any reactions from the three on his lack of enthusiasm. "You're going to do big things, Brick. Congrats," he readjusted, forcing a happy tone but meant what he said.

" _He sure is_ ," Blossom whispered, squeezing his thigh. She was not holding back the joyfulness she felt at his accomplishment, staring proudly at him. The love in her eyes was obvious to anyone who cared to examine the sight but the blondes were not as observant to notice.

Brick nodded, "Thank you. Thank you."

"Didn't Buttercup apply to _Stanford_ too?" Bubbles recalled.

The mention of Buttercup's name snapped Blossom out her lovestruck ways, tossing her gaze to Bubbles. "Yeah... yeah, she did," she said hesitantly.

"I guess that means more Buttercup for me," Brick quipped, not hiding his lack of enthusiasm. He had slowly become aware of the dark-haired girl's hatred for him—especially after Blossom confessed to him about Buttercup's warning to stay away from him a few days ago.

"I just cannot believe we're all going to stay here," Bubbles awed. "We all applied to California schools."

"I didn't," Blossom said sharply.

"And what is the list of the many colleges that have accepted you?" Boomer asked, getting more agitated by the conversation.

"I haven't heard from them," she frowned. It was the truth. Even if she did not want to go to those schools, Blossom still applied to every single one of the top schools in the nation. However, she was not upset by their lack of response and more so because she has not heard back from _Juilliard_ ; the only school she wanted to attend in the fall.

"Even _Princeton_?"

"Yeah," Blossom said shortly, deciding to change the subject, much to Boomer's delight.

* * *

Lounging around their hotel room, Buttercup and Butch were enjoying the break from their grueling training. They still had two more days to go and could not be more tired but they were both incredibly grateful for the opportunity.

To refuel after burning calories all day, the two decided to pick up Chinese food—orange chicken with extra broccoli for Butch and pork chow mein for Buttercup—and hang out in their hotel room before going out with some others from the workshop for a few rounds of bowling. Buttercup sat, legs crossed on the bed, while Butch had his feet kicked up on the desk in the room, leaning back into the desk chair that came with it.

"Messi or Ronaldo?" Butch questioned, popping a piece of broccoli into his mouth. The two were still on good terms despite what happened their first night there. They have lacked the effort to even mention it, both fearing it would lead to a fight and ruin the progress they have made in becoming friends.

"Messi," she answered. "All day. Every day."

"Nope," he shook his head. "It was a trick question. The real answer is Neymar."

Buttercup rolled her eyes, smirking as she picked up her noodles with chopsticks, "Blatant favoritism I see."

Butch chuckled to himself, "You got me."

Buttercup glanced at him, ignoring the jolt of excitement she felt from making him smile. She diverted her eyes back to her food, stirring around her noodles to distract her thoughts, "Obviously."

"Let's try another one," he began. "Would you rather have Lebron or Curry?"

"Um… trick question," she grinned. "The correct answer is Westbrook."

" _Aye_. Look at you," Butch beamed. "You're catching on."

"I've been stuck with you for five days, I would hope that I do."

"Stuck with me? Come on, _Butters_. Don't make it sound so bad," he laughed.

"Since when do you call me _Butters_?" she questioned, looking up from her noodles at him, ignoring everything else he said.

"Huh?" The amusement on his face disappeared as he placed his feet on the ground, meeting Buttercup's eyes. "Is it wrong that I do? Everyone else does."

"No… it's just," she sighed. "Only my close friends call me that. It's just weird coming out of your mouth."

He nodded, "We're not close enough for nicknames. It's fine. I respect the honesty."

"If you really want me to be honest, I actually hate the name but everyone is too used to calling me it that I just let it slide," Buttercup confessed, smiling sheepishly.

Butch smirked, "Then I'll just come up with a better one for you."

She arched an eyebrow, growing anxious from the interaction—almost every conversation they had now, made her feel that way and Buttercup could not figure out why. "I think we're getting way too comfort—"

She paused, hearing a ping coming from her phone. Glancing down to see the notification, Buttercup's eyes widened. She quickly unlocked her phone, entering her mailbox which had notified her. Reading at lightning speed, a smile grew widely on her face.

"What is it?" Butch asked curiously.

"I got into _Stanford_!" Buttercup announced, placing her food on the foot of the bed and standing up to pace around the room, overwhelmed by the happiness she felt. "I can't believe it!"

"Seriously?" Buttercup, still pacing, nodded. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed, raising to his feet. Butch grabbed her shoulders, pulling her into a congratulatory hug. Buttercup swiftly wrapped her arms his neck. "Congratulations, Buttercup. You deserve it."

"Thanks." Buttercup inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of the hotel's soap Butch held and the pine scent his clothes gave off, enjoying the mixed concoction. Her eyes snapped open at the thought, realizing just how close and tight she held herself against him. Buttercup took a step back, breaking the hug. "I, um… appreciate it," she muttered, down-casting her eyes to the carpet in the room.

Butch raised an eyebrow at her shift in emotions but it quickly hit him on why she was behaving this way. The hug was too uncomfortable for them. It was too soon.

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, wishing he regretted hugging her but he did not. Butch was excited for her. He was just trying to be a good friend.

"No problem," he said lowly, feeling the uneasiness seeping into both of them. "I hope things work out for me too—with _Berkeley_ , you know?" Butch continued, hoping to break the uncomfortableness.

Buttercup nodded, pushing herself to move past the moment they shared, "I'm sure they will."

"We'll just have to see," he grinned, ignoring the apprehension he had towards the topic. If he did not get into _Berkeley_ , it threw off his whole life plan. Butch needed to get accepted. And Butch knew his anxiousness would not dissipate until he knew whether or not if he got in.

* * *

"What if I didn't get in?" Blossom murmured, pressing her forehead against Brick's. They were laying his bed, her legs wrapped around his, and their hands entwined—her right, his left. It was strange to be on the opposite side of the room but it felt right to her. It made Blossom feel more confident in her decision on picking Brick. Now she just had to wait until Butch got back for her to break up with him—Blossom did not want to do it over the phone, it was the least she could do for him. "What if it was just a waste of time like everything else I've been doing for the past two years?"

"Bloss, you're going to get in," Brick reassured, gently blowing a few loose strands of her bangs out of her eyes. "You're just overthinking and stressing about it too much."

"I don't know…" She gazed into his crimson eyes, whispering, "Is it dumb that I think this will change everything? It's the first decision I have made entirely for my _own_ happiness… I just think if I get in, it's a sign that I'll be fine. That I don't need to be _perfect Blossom._.. Is that stupid?" Brick smirked at her question, resulting in Blossom sighing to herself, "It is stupid…"

"It's not," he replied. "I just think you're cute, that's all." He freed his hand, pulling her closer against him. Brick kept his hand firmly on the small of her back, "It's a perfectly normal thing to feel that way." He kissed the tip of her nose, "And you're going to get in, Bloss. Trust me, you will."

"How are you so sure?"

"Because you're extraordinary. They can't let talent like you pass by," Brick answered softly.

"You're just saying that because we're technically dating," Blossom dismissed, trailing her hand lightly along his forearm.

Brick chuckled to himself, "If I was only trying to appease you, I wouldn't be trying to convince you that you're wrong."

"Then what would you be doing instead?" she teased lowly.

"I would probably try to shut you up by kissing you like a douchebag would."

She brought her fingers to his mouth, tracing the outline of his lips, watching her finger attentively, "I wouldn't mind that option… it would get my mind off of everything."

Brick grinned at her instruction, disrupting her finger tracing, "As you wish."

His lips met hers, squishing their noses together, as he slowly deepened the kiss. Blossom cupped his cheek as he flickered his tongue into her mouth.

They broke apart, panting heavily to catch their breath, smiling at each other. Brick moved his hand from Blossom's back, pushing her onto her back as he climbed on top of her, lifting her into another kiss. Blossom moaned into his mouth, grabbing a fist full of his shirt to make sure he would not be able to leave until she wanted him to—she felt Brick smile against her skin, knowing exactly what she was doing.

Blossom wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling him hardening, poking against her stomach. This knowledge was sending wild thoughts throughout her mind.

She wanted him. She wanted him right here and right now.

"Brick…" she murmured against his lips.

"Mmh?"

"I want—"

Before she could finish her sentence, Blossom's phone began to vibrate. The continuous shaking against Brick's wooden desk amplified the obnoxious noise throughout the room. She sighed, reluctantly reaching over to answer it.

Brick did not mind, moving on to place butterfly kisses along her jawline.

Blossom smiled at him, running her fingers through his copper locks—his hat sat on the desk also, per Blossom's request when they entered his room in case of the makeout session that would eventually happen.

"Hello," she said cheerfully into the receiver.

" _Hello to you too, babe. It's good to hear your voice_."

Blossom felt her bubble burst, bringing her back to reality. Butch was still her boyfriend at the moment, yet she had his roommate on top of her, doing things that would most likely end up with her having a collection of hickeys to hide. The guilty conscious that had faded away since the day he left, has rushed all back to her, reminding her that she still was not off the hook.

"Yeah," she squeaked. Brick briefly raised an eyebrow at her before continuing his progress along her jawline to now her neck. Blossom should tell him to stop but could not find the willpower to do so. "It's great to hear from you too."

She could imagine him smiling into the receiver, thinking about how amazing she was, like he repeatedly tells her everyday since they started dating.

 _"Hey. So like, I only have a few minutes before Buttercup and I have to meet up with some friends here, but can you do me a huge favor?"_

Blossom wanted to say no. The last thing she agreed to for him, Blossom said she would not get involved in any trouble. Her eyes drifted to Brick.

 _She definitely has gotten herself into some trouble._

"Sure," she said through her teeth.

" _Okay. So I have the key to my mailbox in my left drawer―the one with the condoms,_ " he mumbled the last part. Buttercup must be in the room, she concluded. " _And I was just wondering if you can check my mailbox to see if I gotten anything from Berkeley_?"

"Shouldn't you be asking Brick to do this since he also has a key to the mailbox?" Blossom questioned. Brick paused, tossing himself over next to her onto his side, listening into the conversation now that his name was brought up.

She did not want to feel even more guilty by still having to carry on the responsibility of being his girlfriend—God, she was a terrible and selfish person.

Blossom ignored the nagging voice in her head, focusing on Butch's voice.

" _I could but I want you to be the first person to know_."

Terrible. Horrible. Disgusting. Person.

"Butch…"

" _Look. I have to go but I just have one more thing to say. This is the beginning of our future together babe, and I can't wait for all the possibilities we'll have together. I love you._ "

"Okay," she whispered into her phone, ending the call, not even noticing her lack of repeating "I love you" back. Her eyes alarmed her with the view of her foot brushing up against Brick's calf. She swiftly kicked her foot away, sitting up to put her hair up into a messy bun.

Brick frowned at the action, knowing why she was reacting this way since he caught the tail end of her conversation with Butch.

"Bloss… if you've changed your mind again. It's fine," he muttered. "I'll understand."

"I'm not," she said, staring blankly at Butch's bed. "It just makes me feel worse for breaking up with him… I'm such a sad-excuse of a person," she murmured, wiping her eye. "Oh. Look. I'm crying again. I'm such a crybaby too... It's pathetic."

Brick wrapped his arms around her, her back against his chest. He placed his chin on her shoulder, pushing her hair out of the way, "You're not a terrible person, Bloss. You're just a human," he said softly into her ear. "You're going through a lot. You're allowed to express your emotions… I wish you were easier on yourself, so that you can see what I see."

Blossom felt her heart flutter, her body wanting to melt at his comment. Too bad her mind had full control of her at the moment. If she was listening to her heart, Blossom would forget about Butch and would have given herself to Brick like she wanted to minutes ago.

"We need to go check your mailbox," she announced, not acknowledging Brick's words of comfort.

He nodded, releasing his hold on Blossom. The two rose to their feet, silently walking to the mailroom together. Blossom was pleased there were no witnesses to their trip, fully knowing how it would be interpretive if anyone did. That they were able to keep everything a secret despite how much everything has progressed. Her worries about Ace's comment seeming ages ago.

Brick pulled out his lanyard—it was a free gift from _Stanford_ that he received a few days ago, designed in their school color of cardinal red and _Stanford Cardinal Football_ written in white across it—that contained the key to the mailbox he shared with Butch. Turning the key and unlocking it, Brick pulled out the mail.

A few letters for Butch from his sisters. Two letters from _Stanford_ for Brick. One envelope from Berkeley with Butch's name written on it.

Blossom hesitantly opened the envelope, sucking in a tight breath. Her eyes gliding through their letter, soaking in everything it said.

She flickered her eyes to Brick, who was waiting in anticipation.

" _He got in_ …"

* * *

One of Bubbles' favorite places off-campus was a café that was a five-minute walk away. Using the theme of Paris at midnight, Bubbles loved the romantic and enchanting atmosphere of the place. Not to mention, they served the best soybean cappuccinos she has ever had. Because of this, she always brought Boomer along with her whenever she got the chance, believing it was one of the best places for them to spend some alone time together.

Occupying a table by a window, Bubbles was speaking animatedly to Boomer about their future while sipping on a soy cinnamon cappuccino. Boomer listened begrudgingly, hiding his dissatisfied face by taking a sip of his green tea almost every ten seconds.

"I think we should get an off-campus apartment. It will be cheaper tuition-wise," Bubbles explained with a smile. "Plus, it will be a test for when we're actually married."

"I guess," he mumbled, staring boredly at her. The amount of self-loathing he has held since the beginning of the week has increased for him since they entered the café. Boomer knew he had to tell her the truth but he did not want to break her heart.

But he knew it had to be done.

"And then we'll be living in the same city as my Abuela, so we can visit her almost every weekend—"

"I didn't get in!" Boomer blurred out. A sense of relief washed over him from the announcement.

Bubbles paused what she was saying, arching an eyebrow, "What?"

"I didn't get accepted into _San Diego State_ ," he confessed, sighing heavily. Boomer hung his head low, "I actually didn't get accepted into anywhere. I tried University of Hawaii, San Francisco, Oregon… everywhere rejected me."

"Boom…"

"Well, that's actually false. I did get accepted by this community college in Honolulu that I didn't even apply to," Boomer explained, his face twisted with confusion and disappointment in himself.

Bubbles nodded. The random community college was a backup plan that Butch hatched for Boomer at the beginning of the year. In all good intentions, Butch only did it to make sure Boomer had somewhere to fall back on. Little did they both know, it has ended up as the only thing Boomer can land on.

"I'm sorry, Bubs," Boomer murmured. "I've ruined everything… It's no wonder why everyone thinks I'm stupid…"

"Boomer," she pouted. "Don't start beating yourself up about this."

"Why shouldn't I?" he argued. "Fucking Brick and Buttercup are going to _Stanford_ —one of the top school in the nation. Blossom is probably going to _the_ top school in the world. While even Butch has chances of getting into a good school." Boomer softened his expression, "You gave up _UCLA_ for me, Bubs. You gave up your dream for your dumbass boyfriend."

"You're much more than that," Bubbles challenged. While she was devastated about her college situation now, Boomer will always be her first priority. "And just because you didn't get in now, doesn't mean you can't apply later. There's always applying for other community colleges in San Diego. And then you can transfer afterward. It could all still work out like we planned."

"See. That's the thing… I've been thinking a lot lately, and… I don't think I want to go to college anymore," Boomer confessed. Bubbles shocked face pressed him to backpedal a little. "Er—at least, not for now… I'm considering taking a year or two off."

Bubbles nodded, trying to understand his decision. In her mind though, she could not even fantasize about his decision. Going to college has _always_ been a top priority for her, especially when Bubbles promised her mother before she passed away that she would not repeat her mistake of not furthering her education.

She, however, knew that she had to be supportive of Boomer's decision because he would do the same for her. Because she loved him and that was what love was about. Compromise.

Bubbles reached over the table, covering Boomer's hand with her own. "If that's what you want, then I'll be there for you. _No matter what_."

"You sure?"

She nodded once again, "I'm sure… it's not what I planned for our future but _nothing is ever set in stone_."

"Exactly," Boomer grinned, his spirits already uplifting. He did not understand why he was even so scared about telling Bubbles the truth. He should have known she would be understanding like she _always_ was.

Bubbles forced a smile, ignoring the ingest of remorse she held over choosing Boomer in favor of _UCLA_. _For choosing a boy over her future_. But like she said to Boomer, it was time for her to rewrite her future—and Boomer will _always_ be the one constant in every possible scenario she can create.

* * *

With Buttercup gone for a week, Blossom has enjoyed all the perks of rooming alone. Not that she did not like sharing a room with Buttercup, it was just her absent came at the right timing for Blossom and the reevaluation of her life.

Other than all the deep introspective thinking she has done in the week, Blossom has been able to do whatever she wanted. She could blast her music as loud as she wanted to without a complaint. She did not feel a sense of shame for not making her bed in the morning. Nor did she have to avoid using her favorite perfume—Buttercup would get congested whenever Blossom used it, resulting in her only wearing it for rare occasions.

Living by herself showed Blossom how happy she can be when she did not care about anything she did. It was a step in the right direction of breaking out of the molding consisting of her age-old beliefs. Steps towards not caring about what everyone thought.

It was as if she was bursting at the seams with happiness—with only the moment of Butch calling the day before ruining it. Just being herself was a lot more enjoyable than she originally thought, and Brick did make it a lot easier for her because he was interested in the real her. She knew that she should not be using a guy to determine her self-love but Blossom was not going to deny how much it did help to have his support.

It was the smallest things that were making her brim with contentedness. Like how, at the very moment, she was reviewing for her Federal Government class and the excitement of knowing every answer made Blossom feel like she was on cloud 9.

Using her pink highlighter to run across any important content, Blossom darted her eyes over to her phone, which was lighting up due to an incoming call. She capped her highlighter, checking the caller ID this time around.

It was Buttercup.

Blossom's stomach churned, realizing that it was not just Butch who brought her mood down. Buttercup had a similar affect on her because Blossom knew the dark-haired girl would be disappointed once she hears Blossom did not follow her promise of staying away from Brick.

Nevertheless, Blossom answered the phone.

"Hey Butters."

" _Blossom, I don't know if Butch told you, but I got into Stanford!_ "

Blossom's eyes widened in excitement, "Oh my god! That's amazing, Buttercup! I'm so happy for you!"

" _Thank you. It's going to be crazy expensive and I'm going to be paying off student loans until I'm seventy but it's worth it_."

"Yeah…" Blossom said absentmindedly, twirling her finger in her long, orange locks. The mention of _Stanford_ always sent her mind adrift to thinking about Brick.

" _And I haven't told anyone yet, but they recruited me for their soccer and softball programs_ ," Buttercup continued. " _But I think I'm just going to go with soccer though._ "

"Right…"

" _Plus there's this girl here―her name is Monica and she's a complete bad-ass―and she also got accepted, so I already have someone that I know going_."

"Brick's going too," Blossom said adruptly, smiling proudly against the phone.

She heard Buttercup sigh on the other line.

" _Blossom_."

Buttercup's direct tone made Blossom realized what she just said—or more like, who she said it to.

"Yes?" she said sheepishly.

" _Why did you sound like you're walking on fucking rainbows when mentioning him?_ "

"I—"

" _Actually. Why are you even bring up that fucker? Are you staying away from him? Because I swear―_ "

"Yes. I am," Blossom interjected sharply.

" _Nothing happened during your little project for Chem?_ "

"Nope…"

" _Are you sure_?"

"Yes, Buttercup. I'm sure."

" _Okay. I'm just looking out_ ―"

"How did you find out about _Stanford_?" Blossom questioned, attempting to change the subject. However, she was generally curious due to her lack of any responses from any colleges.

" _Email_."

Blossom sighed to herself. She has been refreshing her email every two hours for the past two weeks.

" _But I'm pretty sure a letter came in too_."

"I went to the mailbox an hour ago. There wasn't anything."

" _Nah. It's probably in the stack of mail that I left on my desk._ "

"What?" Blossom questioned. Her eyes glanced over to Buttercup's desk. Sure enough, there was a large stack of envelopes on her roommate's desk. Was she so wrapped up in her own personal life to not even noticed? Apparently so. Blossom glided her chair over to Buttercup's desk, staring down at the stack. "When did you get it?"

" _Two hours_ _before I left. I forgot to separate it because I got sidetracked with packing. I think I saw somethings for you too... Is my letter from Stanford there?_ "

Blossom sorted through the mail, finding an envelope from Stanford.

"Yeah."

" _Sweet. I'm going to hang that up_ ―"

Blossom tuned her out as she came across some mail addressed to her. A thick letter from _Princeton_. Another from _Yale_ and _Harvard_.

However, what stood out to her was the large envelope with _Juilliard's_ name printed across it. In an instant, Blossom tore it open, quickly taking out the letter inside.

Her eyes immediately were drawn to one word as her breathing intensified from the rush of emotions.

 _Congratulations..._

"Butters… I'm going to call you back," she mumbled into the phone, ending the phone call without a response from Buttercup.

Her hands dialed in another number without a second thought. On the second ring, the person answered her. Blossom's voice shaking with excitement as she spoke.

"Brick. Get over here as soon as you can."

* * *

After calling three times in a row, Butch's parents finally picked up on the final ring. Pumping his fist up in the air victoriously to Buttercup—who sat on the hotel bed while he sat in the desk chair again—signaling he had made contact. She smiled at him as Butch began speaking rapidly into the phone, not understanding a single thing he was saying as he was speaking his native language of Portuguese.

"Hey mom, how are things?" he questioned. Butch vaguely listened as his mom complained about various things containing his sisters. Once a few minutes passed of her rambling, Butch spoke up again, chuckling to himself, "Well, that's interesting… actually, you know what else is interesting? I got into _Berkeley_ ," he grinned, proud of his accomplishment and hoping deep down that his mom would be too.

Buttercup glanced over to him, watching as he spoke on the phone brightly. She knew he just told his mom about _Berkeley_ because there was no translation for it, so he said it in English. Buttercup expected him to get more excited from whatever his mom was saying but his grin quickly turned into a scold. His voice sounded more sharp and venomous as he spoke, even though Buttercup could not make out what he was saying.

"What do you fucking mean—You did what? Can I talk to dad? What? No, mom—Let me talk to him right now," he fumed, shaking his leg out of irritation. "Hey, dad. Mom just told me—oh, so it is true? Yeah, I'm mad… No wait, I'm fucking pissed—No, I'm not going to stop cursing. Because—"

Buttercup waited as Butch grew silence, adding more fuel to his anger as the conversation went on. The tension in the room became stuffy and thick, making her uncomfortable but she did not want to leave Butch alone in this state.

"Well guess what, dad? I don't give a fuck about Adrian—Seriously? This is my fault? I'm not the one who blew my fucking college funds for a dumbass start-up plan—Okay. If you want to be that way, then don't ever bother calling me or anything. I don't want to hear shit from you, mom, or Adrian," he seethed, ending the phone call, slamming his phone against the desk.

"Butch!" Buttercup exclaimed as his phone made a cracking sound.

He turned over his phone, running his hand across the large, new crack in the middle of the screen. "Fuck."

"What the hell happened?"

"My lovely parents decided to give the money they've been saving for me to my brother," Butch said sarcastically. "They believe his "genius" idea to create a circle-shaped smartphone is more important than my damn education."

"Butch… I'm so sorry," she breathed, not knowing what else to say. "I know it's not anything but I am sorry."

"It's fine. I should have known this was going to happen anyway," Butch rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "They always favor Adrian despite anything I do—their excuse was that they just didn't think I wanted to go to college. Like I haven't been talking about _Berkeley's_ soccer program for years now… I fucking hate them."

"No, you don't," Buttercup argued. "You're just angry right now. You don't really mean it."

"But I do. They don't give two shits about me."

"Butch," Buttercup pleaded. "You know this isn't you."

"How do you know what's me?" he challenged. "We're _barely_ friends."

Buttercup blinked at him, taken back by his words "Wow…"

Butch widened his eyes, taking notice how hurt she appeared. "Shit, man…" he inhaled sharply, hanging his head lowly. "You're right. I'm getting out of control… I'm sorry… you're actually a really good friend, Buttercup. It's just taken me awhile to figure that out."

"It's fine," she mumbled, looking at anything but him as her face became a bit flushed. Buttercup was just glad that he was still looking down, so he did not see her. In an instant, her mind thought of a way to fix his crisis. "But, um… I think I have a solution to your problem."

"You have 20,000 dollars for my tuition?" he quipped.

"No… but I do have a scholarship you can apply for."

"Really?" He glanced up. "Tell me more."

"It's for soccer players—mainly for POC soccer players. It's from a non-profit in California, so they usually go for local people, and we technically are—"

"So you're applying for it?" he asked hesitantly. Butch did not want to cheat Buttercup out of winning the money if they had to go head-to-head for it.

She nodded but catching on his concerns, "But there are multiple winners. Like four or five, I believe. It's an annual scholarship as long as you continue playing, and while it wouldn't pay for everything, it's enough to pay for your classes for all four years."

Butch pursed his lips in consideration, nodding his head slowly, "I'll think about it… but thank you."

"No problem… if there's anything else you need, you can…" she trailed off, feeling awkward. "You know…"

"I do," he smiled softly, rising to his feet. "I think I'm going to take a walk to get out all the bad vibes I have right now."

"You want to go alone or…"

"I'll go alone," he decided. "I need some alone time."

"Oh… okay," Buttercup forced a smile, saving face. She did not want to show the disappointment she felt from him rejecting her offer. She had no clue why she cared so much—it was starting to make her feel sick. But Buttercup decided to remove it from her frame of mind, finding it not important.

* * *

Blossom quickly opened her door at the first sound of Brick knocking. She swiftly grabbed his wrist, attempting to pull him into her dorm before anyone saw them together but was met with resistance from him as he dug the heels of his feet firmly into the ground.

"Um? Brick, are you coming in?"

"I don't know. Is the "no boys allowed" rule still in existences?" he recalled.

Blossom laughed softly to herself, completely forgetting the rule Buttercup had reinstated at the beginning of the year. It had been so long since they have had a guy in their dorm that it seemed like they just never had one in there before.

"Buttercup is not here," Blossom coaxed.

"Which means?"

"That rule is temporarily lifted."

"Sounds good to me," Brick grinned mischievously, stepping into her room and closing the door behind them. Blossom grabbed his hand, leading him to her bed despite it being only five steps away.

"Sit," she ordered.

"Alright…" Brick said cautiously, taking off his shoes and making himself comfortable on Blossom's bed, leaning his back against her wall. Her bed was softer compared to the firmness of his—she must have bought an expensive mattress pad, he figured. It was like he was laying on a cloud. "What's up?"

"Hold on…" she grabbed her laptop—which displayed a large play button on the screen, indicating she was going to show him a video—placing it in front of Brick on her bed, as she took the spot next to him. "Okay. Press play."

Brick did as he was ordered, clicking on the play button, showing him an empty dance studio. He instantly recognized the song playing in the background due to it's opening piano melody. Smirking, he paused the video.

"Instrumental version of _Runaway_ by Kanye?" he chuckled. "You're showing me a video about Kanye?"

"No, but I have you know _My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy_ is a masterpiece and the music video for this song has one of the best ballet routines I've ever seen."

"So you're a secret Kanye fan?"

"Only for that album. It's up there with _Back to Black_ for me."

"Are you really going to ignore the genius of _Graduation_? _Late Registration?_ " Brick questioned. "What about _College Dropout_ , Bloss? You can't deny how well-crafted that album is."

Blossom rolled her eyes, grinning, "Just play the video, Brick."

"Fine but this conversation isn't over."

Blossom chuckled lightly as the video began again. Brick raised an eyebrow when Blossom appeared in the reflection of the mirrors in the dance studio, executing a flawless ballet routine.

"The music video inspired me for my choreography," Blossom mumbled, watching Brick's face for when it hit him on why she was showing him this video.

"It's gorgeous, Bloss. I—wait…" His mind flash-backed to the day in Ms. Keane's class where he decided to pursue Blossom after all. When he convinced her to audition for _Juilliard_.

"... _And when you get accepted into Juilliard, I want to watch your audition tape_..."

He paused the video once again, putting her laptop gently on the ground, shifting his torso so he could meet Blossom's eyes. "You got in," he breathed.

Blossom nodded eagerly, throwing herself onto him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Thank you for always believing in me even when I didn't believe in myself."

"Of course," he murmured into her hair. They pulled away, staring into each other's eyes before Brick moved in to kiss her. He tenderly cupped her face, dipping her head back, moving his lips slowly. Blossom could feel the butterflies being created in her stomach once again as she pressed herself against Brick, inching closer until she was sitting in his lap. She wrapped her legs around his waist, lifting up his shirt. Unlike New Year's, Brick allowed her to take it off, revealing the chiseled chest and abs that she has fantasized about way too many times to count.

He did, however, pull back, watching as Blossom began nipping around his sharp jawline.

"Bloss. What are we…"

"Shhh," she mumbled, encasing his lips again. A fire inside of her was growing, intensifying all of her sense.

She swiftly discarded her shirt, throwing it onto the ground where Brick's laid. He lowered them, laying his back against the bed and his head resting on her pillows. Blossom smirk to herself, unhooking her bra in record time.

"Wow…" Brick murmured in between kiss when catching sight of her naked, petite breast for the first time.

"Thanks," she replied, sliding her hands down his torso, stopping at the waistband of his sweatpants, her mind hesitating. If she goes through with this, there was no going back. It meant it really was the end of her and Butch.

Brick noticed the conflict on her face, swiftly flipping her over so that she laid on her back and him on top of her in the blink of an eye.

"How did you do that so smoothly?"

"Practice."

"Oh really? That's—"

"Are you sure that you want this?" he interrupted, speaking to her very softly.

In that moment, with his very question, it was all clear to her. There was not a thing on her mind.

No Butch. No Buttercup. No identity crisis.

Nothing but the thought of her and Brick, forgetting the guilt she felt the day before for having the same thought. She was going to go through with it this time. This time, nothing was going to stop or interrupt her decision.

"Yes," she determined, averting her gaze to his chest.

"Blossom." Brick frowned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "Look at me." She did as ordered, melting at the sight of the tenderness in his eyes. "Are you 100% sure you want this? I don't want to—"

"Yes, Brick. I want this," she said more confidently, grinning. "I've wanted this since New Year's…" Blossom arched an eyebrow, realizing she never gotten his opinion on any of this. He did stop them on New Year's, so maybe he would not want to have sex with her because she was still technically with Butch. "...But is this what you want?"

Brick mulled over her question. His immediate reaction—because he was a hormonal teenage boy—was hell yes. He wanted it badly and it took a large amount of self-control to contain his desires for her most of the time. The reason he never furthered anything, even when she wanted to, was because of Butch.

He did not want to have sex with Blossom if she was still unsure about Butch. If she still wanted to be in a relationship with him. That was why he stopped it on New Year's because Blossom had yet to make a solid decision. He did not want to take advantage of her while she was still confused.

Now that she has finally chosen him and has strongly stood by it, he was not concerned anymore. Blossom only wanted him and he only wanted her.

"It is," he grinned.

Blossom smiled bashfully as she stripped him of his sweatpants and underwear, wrapping her delicate hands around his neck to pull down him into a kiss. Brick groaned against her mouth, quickly unbuttoned her jean shorts and sliding them down her legs smoothly. He dipped his finger into her panties, massuaging his thumb against her clit, grinning at the sound of Blossom's moaning. He steadily removed her underwear, breaking free from her hold on him as lead a trail of kisses down to her thighs. His textured tongue moved across her sex, creating a buzzing sensation in between her legs. Blossom stiffened from ecstasy, clutching onto her pillow for support as her thighs clammed around the sides of his head. A strong wave of pleasure coming over her as she rode it out. Brick smiled devilishly at her when finished, wiping his mouth as he came back up to kiss her, ready to take things to a new level between them.

Blossom reached over into her desk drawer, grabbing a condom—she kept them in case of emergencies or unexpected situations like this one. She ripped it open, wrapping it around Brick's bare member, her face reddening as Brick watched her with amusement.

Before anything happened, Blossom pulled Brick close to her, whispering into his ear, " _I'm all your's._ "

* * *

The atmosphere of Statesville was serene and mild-mannered. It seemed like everyone moved at a snail's pace but no one cared. With only two hotels in the town, a modest historical section full of private businesses and quaint diners, and then various mansions throughout the mountain range in the land, it was the perfect place for a person to retire—which was why there was such a huge popularity of wealthy elderly in the area.

To Butch, things seemed more natural here. The air, the grass, the people, and the hospitality—he could not even believe how many old folks have stopped to listen to his life goals after fawning over his height or muscles. They were usually surprised when hearing his dedication to soccer over basketball but all were supportive and even said they would pray for him to achieve his dreams. Did he really think they would? No. But it was their kindness that he appreciated—and if they did, then they are some of the best people he has ever met.

It was not just the locals who gave him a sense of fresh air but it was also the friends he has made from the soccer workshop. They were like-minded to him, having the same work ethic towards athletics and did not disregard his dreams by asking for a backup plan—like Blossom would. With them, Butch did not feel the pressure to prove himself like he did at the Academy. They all respected him as a teammate, a leader, and as a person. They actually wanted to hang out with him even when it was not sports related—unlike his "teammates" back at school.

He always found it funny. Everyone thought he was popular because of his likability and athleticism—which was true for his first year—but really, now he was only known because he was "Blossom's boyfriend". There was the small moment during basketball season where he had the acclaim like freshmen year but it was quickly fleeing after their first loss.

After Buttercup's confession of helping him on New Year's, Butch finally came to terms that his classmate, _do not_ _give a shit about him_. It made sense as to why none of them put up a fight when Brick stepped in as captain for the football team. Why he lost Homecoming King, and why no one cheered him on the year beforehand when he won Homecoming Prince like they did for Brick. It was why people avoided him like a plague unless he was drunk or with Blossom.

Butch did not blame them because he was not going to force anyone to like him but it did make him feel gratified for his new mindset of not trying to gain validation from them anymore. They did not appreciate him anyway.

The people that he met here in Statesville, have been better to him than the classmates he has known for over three years. They just clicked. Not to mention, Butch grew to find a new appreciation for Buttercup.

Surprisingly, being with her 24/7 did not drive him up the walls crazy. He actually enjoyed her presence. She was hysterical to him and pretty wise for their age. Over the six days that he has been with her, he has learned more about her life back in Austin, Texas and her family. She told him about why they immigrated and how her first two years in America, she did not talk to anyone besides her family because she was scared of them making fun of her broken English. How she learned the language from watching any movie she could get her hands on. He earned the knowledge of the deep amount of love she had for her family, especially for her younger brother, Rein, who Butch learned has a form of autism and was a talented painter—Buttercup showed him pictures on her phone to brag, grinning proudly the whole time.

If someone had told him that the monstrously, annoying and bitchy Buttercup was actually a supportive and loving person who was also a good listener and, considerably, one of best people he knew, Butch would have died laughing. It made him regret how long they were at each other's throats because then he would have had a good friend this whole time, but maybe it was better this way. It made him appreciate her more for being in his life—another thing he would not have believed during his freshmen year.

He also did not think he would be envious of her. The thought of all the unconditional love her family shared was a pipe dream to him. A nice fantasy that will never happen because like his classmates, _they did not give a shit about him either_.

That was what brought him here. A worn-out wooden bench in front of a crystal, clear lake three miles from the hotel. After leaving his hotel room, Butch walked around aimless, consumed by his troubled thoughts and self-revelations. When he stumbled upon the lake, which was only accessible by a hidden hiking trail, Butch's mind grew calm. His anger ceased to exist. He was able to think rationally now.

Sitting on the bench for thirty minutes now, Butch had come to conclusion who his true friends are, that he was going to hang out with Buttercup more now at the Academy, and how he did not regret cutting himself off from his parents. He did not need their toxic energy anymore, nor did he need his classmates. Butch only wanted to surround himself with people who _did give a shit about him_.

There was only one thing he had a large question mark over.

Blossom.

His conversation with Buttercup a few nights ago sprouted some doubts in his mind about their relationship. Did the dark-haired girl know something he did not? He was not sure yet. But Butch could not shake the aching feeling that something was not right.

He only knew Buttercup was right about one thing. Blossom was hiding something, he just did not know what it was and how significant it was.

He glanced at his phone, spotting a notification from Buttercup, asking if he was okay, as he typed in Blossom's number. He waited, listening to the phone ringing. Butch just wanted to hear her voice and tell her all about his dilemma. Perhaps she could cheer him up a bit.

He frowned greatly when being informed that he would have to leave a voicemail. He tried again, still going to voicemail. Butch sighed to himself in defeat, settling for a text message.

 _ **Hey. Call me when you're free...**_

The thought of throwing his freshly cracked phone into the lake in front of him, flashed through his mind out of irritation but he knew better. Plus, there _obviously_ was not any money he could get to pay for a new one.

Butch averted his eyes back to the lake as it seemed to sparkle from the sunlight.

Things here were so simple and beautiful.

He did not want to leave. He did not want to go back to the Academy and be stuck with people that he did not care for. This break has given him a fresh pair of eyes to how dissatisfied he was at the Academy, with his friendships, and maybe, his relationship too.

He was starting to feel Blossom _also did not give a shit about him_.

Butch wanted to be wrong. He hoped that he was. The only thing making him motivated to head back to the Academy, was to _prove_ that he was wrong. To prove he should not be questioning Blossom's love for him.

With problems with college already transpiring, disassociation with his family, and the lacking of his "friendships", Butch simply prayed for one saving grace to everything, hoping that it would be Blossom.

* * *

"That was…" Brick started, panting a little as his breathing was slowly getting back to normal.

His back was against Blossom's bed as she was curled up against his side. Her head was resting on his chest, lightly tracing imaginary circles on his abs, their sweaty bodies pressed together. They were completely uncovered, not bothering to grab the nearby comforter that laid on the ground to conceal themselves.

"Amazing," Blossom finished, grinning to herself, still in a daze about what just happened.

"I was going to say unexpected," Brick joked, smirking to himself as Blossom lifted her head up to meet his eyes. "But I'm not going to deny that it wasn't."

"Shut up," she said playfully.

"Seriously, Bloss. I enjoyed every second of that… which shouldn't be surprising since it was with _you_."

Blossom felt herself actually swoon, smiling from ear-to-ear, "You're not so bad yourself. I didn't think you would be so…"

He arched an eyebrow, "Experienced?" She nodded, feeling herself reliving the very moments that just happened. Brick had so many tricks that caught her off guard but she was not going to complain. After being with Butch—who was a self-proclaimed expert due to his previous playboy ways—and a guy before him, Blossom thought she knew pretty much everything about sex. She was _very_ wrong. "I was kind of a hoe back at my old school."

"Well, it sucks for them."

"And why is that?"

"Because you're all mine now," she coaxed, fluttering her eyelashes.

Brick smiled smugly, "Oh? I am now?"

"Yes. Yes, you are."

"I think I'm going to need further persuasion," Brick teased, rolling over on top of her again. Blossom grinned wickedly as he continued, "Just to make sure."

"A lot of experience _and_ great stamina?"

"Why do you think I'm such a good athlete?"

"I actually have a lot of answers to that statement."

"That's good to know," Brick murmured, closing the gap between them and beginning again what they had finished minutes ago.

As both of them were too preoccupied with each other, neither noticed, on the nearby desk, Blossom's phone lighting up with multiple notifications with Butch's name attached to them, desperately calling out for her attention.


	17. In Too Deep

Brick was aware of his acquired taste for things. Like how he always needed to put hot sauce on practically anything he eats or how he never wears flip flops, even at the beach. How he still wore the same red ball cap from when he was thirteen because he liked how it matched his eyes. Or that he always chose the number 5 as his jersey number because it's perfectly located in the middle of a number sequence between 1-9 and he felt double digit numbers were bad luck. More so, Brick knew he had a lot of quirks to him that no one would ever really know unless he told them _or_ showed them.

For instances, no one would know how much he enjoyed making out with Blossom in the Academy's janitor's closet—despite the strange combining smell of bleach and dirty water that filled the room. Only Blossom would ever know that fact about him. And she seemed to agree with him on the topic, considering she suggested it after their Chemistry class.

Skipping the second class of the day—her's being French, his' being computer science—was not the best idea since the courses at the Academy were incredibly rigorous. Luckily, both had high enough grades that missing an assignment or two had no effect on their overall standing in their respective classes. This allowed them to have forty-five minutes all to themselves—which they were taking full advantage of.

Blossom had her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and her legs around his waist, her back pushed up against the wall. Brick dug his fingers into her left thigh while his other hand laid flat on the wall for support. Blossom flicked her tongue in his mouth, still not tired of how good he tastes to her. She wanted to have sex with him again—which is something they have done numerous times in only the span of two days.

She had accepted that she was now in the "new sex" trance that comes with the start of most new relationships their age and could not keep her hands off of him anymore.

Blossom moaned against his mouth, moving her hands to unbutton his jeans. She felt him grinning, notifying her that he approved of the decision and that she should continue. As she slipped her hands into his boxers, Blossom was startled by the bell ringing above them, biting down onto Brick's bottom lip by accident.

She pulled back as Brick put her gently down on the ground, turning his back towards her and rubbing his lip.

"Shit."

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," she comforted, hugging him from behind and craning her neck to see if his lip was bleeding—thankfully, it was not.

"It's fine," he declared, pulling out his phone to check out the damage in the reflection of his screen. He felt it sting as he applied pressure with his finger, "It's just going to bruise up a little. I'll be fine."

"Yeah but I don't want to cause any damage. You're too pretty for a bruised lip," Blossom remarked slyly. "Plus, people are going to notice and ask where you got it."

"That's the first time I've been associated with the word "pretty" but thank you," Brick grinned. "And if anything, I'll just say I got in a fight."

"No, you wouldn't."

Brick chuckled at her response, wrapping his arm around her and giving her a squeeze, "You're so adorable."

Blossom took a step forward, standing in front of him now on her tippy toes to rub her nose against his, "I think you're way more adorable than me."

Brick raised an eyebrow in amusement, "As much as I'd like to compete on who is—which, it's definitely you—we should probably actually go to class now… I kind of have a test in my history class on Friday and we're reviewing today," he revealed sheepishly.

"Way to kill the moment, Brick," Blossom quipped but she was still smiling. She pulled her phone out, switching to the camera app as she fixed her hair and applied lip gloss on.

Brick shrugged his shoulders, "I'll make up for it tonight… er, if we are meeting up tonight?"

Blossom exhaled deeply, lowering her shoulders as she knew exactly what he meant. Today was the day that Butch and Buttercup got back from their trip, which meant, it was the day that Blossom was going to break up with him. "It all depends on how things go with Butch."

Brick nodded, "Hopefully that will go smoothly."

"It's Butch. Nothing goes smoothly with him."

Brick chuckled lightly at her remark despite his discourse over the topic as another bell rang, alerting them that their third class has begun. Blossom gave Brick a peck on the lips before leaving the janitor's closet. Brick leaned against the wall, waiting for five minutes to pass—per Blossom's request. It was her idea to avoid anyone catching them leaving the closet together.

He sighed to himself as the minutes passed, his mind only being able to think about one thing. _Blossom and Butch._

They were so close to finally being together that Brick did not want to admit it but he felt a lightness in his headspace. Whenever his thoughts went to Blossom—which was very often—Brick could not help the broad smile that appeared on his face every time, no matter where he was. Some of his friends have noticed, taking interest in his uplifted spirits. Not that he would go into depth about it because Brick was not the type of person to put all his business out there but he did want to brag a little about Blossom and how amazing she was.

She brought a refreshing contentedness out of him. Brick liked to think he was a pretty emo person. Not in the whole dark clothing, wearing eyeliner, and listening to _My Chemical Romance_ or _Fall Out Boy,_ type of sense of the word. It was more like he was deeply affected by his emotions. When he hit his lows, they could be extremely low and unbearable; when he hit highs, there was nothing stopping him from enjoying every second of life. And Blossom had exposed that over-joyed, high off of life Brick despite them still being in a tricky position.

While Brick did feel overzealous about his new relationship, he was not going to ignore Butch. He was still the "other man" and even though Blossom claims she would finally end things with him, Brick knew there was going to be some hesitations. A small part of him felt like she would not go through with it once again because of her indecisiveness.

Then there was also the fragile state she was in. Blossom was at a crossroads in her life and was heavily influenced by her emotions to say the less—something she told him has never happened before due to her "Ice Queen" persona. With that, Brick knew it was been easy for Blossom to get in her head and begin to find any reason to be guilty about anything and everything to where she would not pull through with it. To simply put it, Brick was terrified of something changing her mind again.

However, Brick wanted to have faith in her. He had to if he was going to embark on a relationship with her after all of this.

Glancing down at his watch, Brick took note that more than enough time has past—he did not realize how deep in thought he was until then. Exiting the small closet and walking down the hall, Brick whistled a happy tune on his way to class. As he turned the corner, Brick got sight of Blossom's long orange hair and Butch's muscular arms wrapped around her.

Brick raised an eyebrow at this, figuring Blossom might have already done the deed and they were leaving it on good terms. Backing up to avoid being seen, Brick grimaced when Butch's head popped up and called out his name.

"Fuck," he muttered before putting on a tight smile as he walked over to his roommate and Blossom. "Hey, Butch. It's good to see you," Brick greeted, giving Butch a quick bro-hug. His red eyes lingered on the green-eyed male's fingers lacing themselves around Blossom's as she squeezed his hand tightly.

Needless to say, his high-flying mood had crashed and burned with a voice in his head mocking him, saying, _I told you so_.

"Same to you, bro," Butch grinned, glanced lovingly at Blossom. "Buttercup and I literally just got back like twenty minutes ago." His eyes flickered back to Brick, "I have a shit ton to tell you both about my trip but right now I have to talk to Professor Mojo because I have no fucking clue how exponential growth works."

Brick opened his mouth to explain out of habit—he was always game to helping his roommate understand math—but closed it abruptly, nodding. The sooner Butch was gone, the quicker he can ask Blossom what the hell was going on.

Butch swiftly pecked Blossom on the forehead, leaving the redheads alone in the hallway. They waited in silence for a good minute to make sure they were truly unaccompanied.

"I can't…" she mumbled to herself, her eyes on the shiny tiles of the floor.

"What was that?"

Blossom looked up, staring into Brick's eyes, "I can't break up with him."

Brick inhaled deeply.

 _I told you so. I told you so. I fucking told you so._

"And why is that?" he questioned, trying to sound calm but they both could not ignore the rough edge in his voice.

"He just told me about his parents spending all of his college funds," she explained. "He put up a front for you, but he's really devastated by it all… he said the only thing getting him through it was the knowledge of seeing me soon."

"Smooth line," Brick scoffed, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms.

"Brick." Her eyes pleading with him to understand. Brick eased the tension in his shoulders, softening the scowl on his face as Blossom continued. "I can't kick him while he's down."

"I get it… You're right," Brick nodded, rubbing temples, digesting the situation. His eyes reflecting pain as he asked, "But where does this leave us? Are we… Are we done?"

"What?" Blossom blinked, her mouth moving faster than her mind. "I—Maybe? No? I..." she sighed to herself, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I don't know."

She watched as Brick's entire mood shifted, feeling the heartache that oozed out from him, reaching into her soul. Biting her bottom lip, Blossom could not bear breaking Brick's heart—she was only capable of doing it to Butch. She raised her hand, cupping his cheek, lightly pressing her thumb on the spot of his lip that she injured.

"Let me try that again," she smiled weakly. "We're not done, Brick. We're further from that… we're just going to continue sneaking around for a little bit longer than we planned—Just until it's been a good amount of time for me to break up with Butch."

"Promise I wouldn't have to wait a month?" Brick grinned, placing his hands on her hips.

Blossom nodded, "What is today's date?"

"January 28th."

"Then I promise before February 28th, I will no longer be in a relationship with Butch."

Brick pulled her closer, lowering himself so they were at the same level of eyesight, " _Sounds perfect._ "

* * *

Taking a seat in a leathery chair, Boomer deeply inhaled the overpowering fruity smell of his principal's office. While he has heard a majority of his classmates complain about the odor, the blond has always been fond of the scent. It was the only reason he would ever get excited when getting called into Him's office—which was often due to his poor grades.

"Ah, Mr. Kealoha," Him greeted when entering the office, wearing a red suit and taking a seat at the large desk in the room. "It's always interesting having you in my office."

"Thank… thank you?" Boomer squinted, not sure how to respond.

Him nodded, glancing at the computer screen on the desk and scribbling something down on a notepad. "You're not here for your grades if that's what you're thinking," Him revealed, not glancing at Boomer while writing.

Boomer let out a sigh of relief, letting go of the tension he did not even know he had. "That's great. I—"

"I'm cutting the swimming program," the principal stated, no emotions attached.

"What? Why?" Boomer questioned, his voice going a few octaves higher due to confusion and shock. His dark blue eyes widened to the max.

Him stopped writing, putting the pen down and meeting Boomer's eyes, "It's simple. The team has no winning record—ever, in the existence of this school."

"But the football team didn't have one until this year," the blond argued. "And you gave them the chance to prove themselves."

"That is… that is the truth," Him grumbled, taken back by the counterclaim. The principal cleared their throat, smiling professionally, "However, as you must know, the football team has always had prospects to at least try and change their record. The swim team is only down to one member— _which is you_."

Boomer sighed at the fact. As the captain of the team, he was the single member because everyone else graduated the year beforehand and they did not bother recruiting anyone the past two years.

A lightbulb flashed in his mind as Boomer grinned brightly, "What if I can recruit some new members? If we get new members, we'll have a chance to change our record."

Him arched an eyebrow, mulling over the question. Letting out an impressed grin, Him nodded, "I'll give you a trial period, Mr. Kealoha. If you can get enough people for the first swim meet and win the match, then the swim team can continue on—"

"Sweet!" Boomer blurted out, pumping his fist in the air.

"I'm not done," Him grimaced, regretting the decision now.

"Sorry," he said meekly, sinking into his chair out of embarrassment.

"The swim team will _only_ continue if they _win_. If you are unsuccessful, then I will be shutting down the program. Do I make myself clear?"

Boomer grinned, his eyes shining with excitement, "Crystal."

* * *

"So then we had our final dinner at this fancy ass steakhouse—their prime rib was to die for—and our coaches decided to give us all individual awards and everything," Buttercup explained enthusiastically to the group at the picnic table during their lunch period.

"What did you win?" Bubbles inquired, pleased to see how happy Buttercup seemed. It was a stark comparison to how the green-eyed girl has been behaving for the better half of the school year. The blonde was hoping this was a sign to the start of greater things for Buttercup.

"Best defender," she beamed proudly. "It was out of both genders too, so it's kind of a big deal."

Butch chuckled, "Kind of? It's a huge deal. She literally laid out this guy named Thomas on the first day there. After that, no one wanted to go up against her."

"Except for you," she smirked.

"That's because I'm not scared of you," he replied, arching his eyebrow.

"Um…" Blossom cleared her throat, bringing the two to realize the others were at the table—Butch smiled sheepishly at the fact while Buttercup avoided eye contact with anyone at the table. She eyed the two back and forth suspiciously but did not care enough to say anything. "So what did you get Butch?" she questioned, forcing herself to still play the role of his girlfriend.

"Best leader," he grinned.

"Seriously?" Blossom asked, skeptically. Butch's leadership skills, to her, were non-existent.

Butch's face went flat, "What? You don't think I can lead?"

"I—"

"Can someone tell me why the fuck there was such a long line for lunch today?" Brick complained, placing his tray of food next to Buttercup and taking a seat at their picnic table. "I was literally there for fifteen minutes and all I got was soggy-ass cheese pizza."

"It's tamales day," Bubbles answered. "Everyone loves tamales."

Brick furrowed his eyebrows, "This school is so weird."

The second she heard his voice and looked up to see his face, Buttercup could not hide the disgust she held for him.

"Why the fuck are you here?" Buttercup seethed.

Brick rolled his eyes, "Because I can be."

"Nice comeback. Are you in kindergarten or something?"

The redhead remained mute, taking a bite out his pizza. Buttercup could feel her blood beginning to boil, tossing her eyes over to Blossom for an answer. Brick was supposed to be non-existent in their group. Blossom was supposed to be twenty feet away from him at all times.

Blossom avoided Buttercup's stares, entwining her fingers with Butch's across the table. Buttercup's eyes trailed down to their hands, tightening her own hands into a fist at the sight. She did not understand why it was causing such an outrage in her. She had seen them hold hands millions of time. But this time… this time, Buttercup wanted to tear Blossom's arm out of the socket.

She glanced at Bubbles, reminding herself to take a deep breath like when Boomer told her to when they meditated together now. The first step of regressing her growth was to get overheated over Blossom and Brick.

With a calm mind, Buttercup settled that she was simply angry over Blossom still carrying on her relationship with Butch even though she cheated. Yeah. That was why she was pissed.

Nevermind the dissatisfaction she felt with the answer she selected, Buttercup was just going to use it as a solution as to why.

"Hey guys," Boomer greeted, not getting a whiff of the tension at the table as he took his seat next to Bubbles. He pecked her cheek before speaking, "Can I ask for a major favor from all of you?"

"Depends," Butch said wearily, remembering the last time Boomer asked that very question. Boomer had begged Butch to come with him to a lake to prove that aliens do exist and somehow, in the morning, Butch ended up at a chicken farm in Farmsville with a backpack full of cucumbers. It was the weirdest night of his life.

"Okay. So Him wants to shut down the swimming program—"

"What? No!" Bubbles exasperated, knowing how much Boomer loved the activity. Boomer grinned at her, finding her dismay to be cute.

"I know, Bubs, but I ended up striking a deal with Him—"

"Deal with Him? That's like making a deal with the devil," Butch quipped.

Buttercup chuckled, "Then Blossom is quite friendly with the devil."

Blossom narrowed her eyes at Buttercup, not understanding the sudden hostility—they had just made up a little over a week ago. Her eyes briefly shifted to Brick, her mind connecting why. Rolling her eyes, Blossom focused her attention to Boomer, "You were saying, Boom."

"Oh… um, I made a deal with Him that if the team wins, then the program will stay."

"That's awesome," Brick grinned.

"Don't even act like you give a shit," Buttercup muttered to the redhead next to her. Brick ignored her, keeping his eyes on the blond in front of him.

"Yeah, it is… the only problem is that I don't have anyone but myself on the team, and if we lose, Him will shut down the program."

"Um. That's two problems," Blossom corrected sheepishly.

Boomer blinked at her in confusion before nodding, " _Right_... so my favor for you is, if you will be willingly to join the swim team? Pretty please?"

"As much as I love you and want to help you, Boomy. I have the musical," Bubbles answered, feeling bad for letting her boyfriend down. Boomer wrapped his arm around her, giving her shoulder a squeeze to let her know he held no hard feelings.

"Butch and I have soccer," Buttercup replied with Butch nodding in agreement.

"Since when do you answer for Butch?" Brick blurted out, instantly regretting it. He was better off ignoring her.

"You _really_ want to go there, Wonder-bread?"

"So what about you, Blossom?" Boomer interrupted, wanting to avoid any fighting within the group. They did just get all back together after almost a month apart.

"I don't know how to swim," she confessed.

"You don't know how to swim?" Brick repeated, baffled by the fact.

She nodded, "I grew up in penthouses. There were no pools for me to learn in."

Brick smirked to himself, forgetting the four others at the table, "Well, it just so happens that I am a certified lifeguard—thanks to my former summer job at Lake Winnipesaukee. So if you ever want to learn, I can teach you," he coaxed. Blossom caught the mischievous gleam in his eyes, knowing this was his way of creating an excuse for them to be alone without anyone questioning why.

"I would _love_ to," Blossom grinned.

"Great. We should try today at 4?"

"I—"

"I love how you're going to teach Blossom how to swim yet wouldn't give Boomer an answer, Mr. Certified Lifeguard," Buttercup acknowledged, her words fuming with venom and sarcasm. Butch pursed his lips, nodding once again in agreement with the dark-haired girl, finding the action suspicious but deciding to not to overthink it.

"Well, I… you know… um…"

"For an intelligent guy, you sure don't know how to speak coherently."

Brick narrowed his eyes at the girl as Butch chuckled at her comment. Sighing to himself, Brick knew what he had to do to avoid any suspicions.

"I'll join the team, Boom," he mumbled.

Boomer beamed, "Great. You're my first recruit—oh, by the way, we're going to pass out flyers today after class, so no swim lessons today. We need to get more teammates."

" _Sounds perfect_ ," Brick grimaced, wishing Buttercup and Butch had just stayed in Statesville.

* * *

Chewing furiously on the blueberry flavor gum in her mouth, Bubbles tapped her foot impatiently against the leg of her chair as she waited in agony for the cast listing for the school musical. Ms. Sedusa—the drama teacher—had asked them to wait in the theatre room after school for when she posted it.

Thirty minutes later and still nothing.

"I'm so excited," Dee Dee whispered to the blonde joyfully.

"Me too… but I'm also anxious and—" Bubbles paused, her eyes darting to the door of the room opening and closing, Ms. Sedusa taping a piece of paper to the back of the door. She turned to wink at the students in the room before exiting the room once again. In an instant, everyone rushed over to the door in a stampede like fashion.

Bubbles and Dee Dee decided to wait it out until the line dissipated, watching as their classmates either celebrated or appeared dejected. Finally, when no one was in the way, the two blondes glanced over the list.

 _ **Sandy... Olivia Lopez**_

 _ **Understudy: Dee Dee O'Reilly**_

Bubbles blinked at the list, not comprehending what she just read. "I… I…" She immediately turned to Dee Dee, wrapping her tightly in a hug, "I'm so sorry, Dee Dee. I shouldn't have auditioned. I—"

"It's fine, Bubs," Dee Dee grinned. "You deserved the role. And besides, there's nothing wrong with being an understudy. I'm still apart of the play."

"Yeah but—"

"Excuse me, dumber twins," Princess interrupted, elbowing the two apart and stepping in front of the list. She grinned wickedly to herself, "Well, would you look at that. I'm going to be Rizzo. Just like I thought."

"Congratulations," Bubbles replied, meaning it since they would have to work together. She glanced over to the clock on the wall, realizing she was late for a meeting. The blonde grabbed her bag, rushing out of the door, "I'll see you guys later."

Dee Dee waved goodbye before smiling at Princess, "Congratulations by the way—"

"You know she scammed you out that role, right?" Princess lied. She knew with Bubbles leaving, this was the perfect opportunity to mess with the blondes' friendship.

"What? Bubbles wouldn't do that," Dee Dee argued.

Princess raised an eyebrow, "Really? Because you do know that Bubbles has told her friends how much she wanted this role. So badly that she got Buttercup to spread rumors about you being a bad actress."

"She did?" the blonde questioned, puzzled by Princess' claim because it did not sound like something Bubbles would do. It never crossed her mind that it was impossible for Buttercup to spread rumors since she was out of town for the entire week of auditioning. Instead, the blonde was beginning to question Bubbles' character.

"Sure did. And everyone knows her bestie Blossom holds a large amount of power here. It wouldn't be surprising if Blossom bribed her way into Bubbles getting the lead role because of their connection. She probably also did it, believing it's the only way the school has a shot at putting off a good performance because of those nasty rumors…" Princess smiled devilishly to herself as she watched Dee Dee begin to believe what she was saying. The blonde on the brink of tears. "... But that's none of my business," she finished, turning on her heels and letting her lies marinate in Dee Dee's head.

Dee Dee scrunched her nose in anger, blinking back any tears in her eyes, frustrated by her nativity in trusting Bubbles. All that talk about "friendly competition" was just a ruse. If Bubbles believes she couod make a fool out of Dee Dee's kindness, then she had another thing coming.

* * *

"Want to make a splash?" Boomer questioned to a few classmates who passed by him. "You should join the swim team."

Brick inhaled deeply, mustering all the strength he has to continue on. Boomer and him have been passing out flyers—or at least, attempting to—to their classmates for the past two hours now in the Academy's courtyard. So far, a majority of people have either ignored them or thrown away their flyer.

Then there were a good amount of girls who would stop only to flirt with Brick and ask if he would be shirtless at the matches. It took every fiber in his body to not respond with a snarky comment. Instead, he just told them to find out for themselves. That usually led them to start giggling and melting like popsicles, as they believed he was flirting back with them. Moments like those made him wish he could just shout at the top of his lungs that he was with Blossom but that statement was not completely correct nor appropriate for him to say. Therefore, he was stuck with the obnoxious flirtations of his female classmates.

Thankfully, whenever a girl would not stop flirting with him, Boomer would eventually scare them away by asking various hypothetical questions, such as " _What if mermaids did exist?_ ", " _Do you think Martians can just turn invisible like Martian Manhunter? Is that why we haven't found life there?_ " or " _What if your toys do come to life just like in Toy Story?_ " By asking these questions, the girls ran off, weirded out by Boomer's presence.

"This sucks," Boomer mumbled.

"Yeah. It does."

Boomer sighed to himself, feeling a bit defeated, "I thought at least more people would be interested. I mean, who doesn't love swimming?"

"Boom. Swimming leisurely and swimming competitively, are two very different things. That's probably why no one wants to join."

Boomer nodded, "You're right… it's just… this is what I'm passionate about. This literally one of the few things I excel at and to have it taken away from me… I don't know. It's not a pleasant feeling."

Brick hesitantly patted Boomer's shoulder, still not good at the whole comforting thing, "I get it… and we'll find some more people, Boom. It will only take a matter of time."

"Yeah… maybe I'm giving up too easily—"

"What is this?" a nasally voice questioned. The two looked up to find Princess staring them down—mainly Brick. "Brick. I didn't know you were on the swim team."

"I just joined," he muttered tightly. It had been a good two and half months since Princess decided to pursue him. Two and half months of unpleasant and desperate attempts to get his attention. He was starting to find her behavior tiresome and a nuisance.

" _Really_?" she grinned devilishly. "And would you be wearing one of those _very tight_ speedos?"

"I—"

"Yes. Yes, he will," Boomer chimed. "But if we don't get any more members, no one will be able to see him in a speedo."

"Excuse me?" Brick questioned, feeling like he was getting pimped out.

"Oh, that would just be a travesty. Consider me a new member of the team," she smirked, never breaking her eyes away from Brick. "You know. For the sake of the cause."

"Great," Boomer beamed. "Practice starts tomorrow at 3."

"Wait, don't you have the musical?" Brick interjected as an attempt to avoid any extra time with Princess.

"Brick. Honey. I'm filthy rich. I can do whatever the fuck I want to do."

"I beg to differ—"

"That sounds good to me," Boomer interrupted. In his mind, as long as they win the first match, he did not care about Princess quitting or not showing up to anything afterward. "See you at practice."

" _Oh, you will_ ," she purred, winking at Brick.

"I… I feel exploited," Brick mumbled once Princess was out of earshot.

Boomer placed a hand on his shoulder, "You should be honored. It only happens to the best of us."

"That doesn't make me feel any better."

Boomer removed his hand, shrugging his shoulders, "You're hot. Get over it."

Brick furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "I… um… Thank you? Is that what I'm supposed to say here?"

"No problem," the blond smiled, walking over to a new group that was passing by to hand them flyers.

In the next hour, the two did better at recruiting. They attracted the attention of four underclassmen, while Brick convinced Stacey to join due to her connection to him. As the sun was beginning to set in the distance, they decided it was time for them to wrap up their recruiting for the day.

"I know things got a little scary for a moment, but I think we did pretty good," Boomer said optimistically.

"Yeah. I do too," Brick replied, stuffing a stack of the flyers in his backpack. Slinging his straps around his arms, he spoke, "Boom, I just want to apologize for not agreeing to this immediately—and for making it seem like Buttercup forced him to join. I actually had a lot of fun hanging out with you… made me realize how little I interact with you."

Boomer raised an eyebrow but smiled softly, "Those things never crossed my mind, Brick. I was just happy you agreed… And it was actually refreshing to talk to someone who wasn't Bubbles. I love her like crazy but I do need to talk to other people."

Brick chuckled to himself, "I don't know how people can let their relationships consume their entire life. Like when they cut off all their friends because they only care about their significant other."

"Exactly. I don't want Bubs and I to be that way," Boomer answered, grabbing his backpack from the ground. "We sorta have a co-dependency problem and we're trying to fix it—"

"Hey. I heard you're recruiting people for the swim team?"

Brick and Boomer dropped their conversation, glancing at the couple in front of them. Brick rolled his eyes, disgusted by their presence while Boomer smiled coolly at them.

"Robin. Mitch. It's nice to see you." Robin flashed a professional smile at the two, her light blue eyes lingering on Brick longer than Boomer—something the redhead took notice of. Mitch weakly waved at the two, looking around in the distance, not seeming to care for the conversation or wanting to be apart of it. "I take from your question that you're interested in joining?"

"Yeah. We both are." Her eyes darting to Brick again as she said this. "Just give us the practice time and we'll be there."

"Tomorrow at 3."

"Great," she chirped, grabbing Mitch's hand. "See you then."

"This is awesome! Now we have ten people," Boomer celebrated.

Brick ignored the blond as he was distracted by Robin throwing one last glance over her shoulder at him. He was puzzled at Robin's actions considering they have never spoken to each other beside when she gave him instructions for being on Homecoming court. From what Blossom briefly told him one day at the beginning of the year, Robin was not to be trusted—which was part of the reason why he did not associate himself with her. Still, Brick wanted to know why she seemed intrigued by him. Like she knew something he did not.

* * *

"No, Stacey. You're not supposed to dunk your whole head underwear," Boomer exasperated, rushing over to the Colombian's side. It was their first day of practice and Boomer was already exhausted. Stacey and the four underclassmen had difficulty getting their breathing down—especially Stacey. While Mitch had no speed at all, stuck practicing his kicking instead to build up strength. Then Princess decided to only remain in the shallow end of the pool due to not wanting to get her hair wet despite Boomer's suggestion of getting a shower cap. Because of all these problems, Boomer has yet to even step foot into the water, causing him agony as he longed for a dip in the chlorine-filled waters.

Boomer was starting to think he was way in over his head for believing he can single-handly save the swim team. He did not take in consideration how much effort he would have to put in getting everyone trained. The blond just expected them to be just as good as he was, which is his nativity coming out in it's fullest. All he knew was that he bit off more than he could chew at the moment and was beginning to have second thoughts about his capabilities at being a good enough leader. _A smart enough leader._

The only saving grace for him was Brick and Robin, who knew exactly what to do and already finished their laps. Brick decided to remain in the pool, his arms over the ledge, waiting for the practice to end since he would be spending time with Blossom after this. A few droplets from his loose copper locks dripped onto his face as he reflected on the past year and how he end up in this situation.

"Deep in thought?" Robin questioned brightly, taking a seat on the ledge next to Brick, dipping her feet in the water right next to him. Brick snapped his eyes towards her, arching an eyebrow at her.

"Nope."

She chuckled to herself, swinging her legs in the water. Brick grew slightly agitated by the ripples of the water constantly hitting his ribcage. "That's a nice bruise you got there," she pointed out.

Brick glanced at his collarbone, cursing to himself about the hickey that Blossom left there. She was lucky that she could hide her's with makeup.

"Thanks…"

"Where'd you get?"

"It's not important."

"And the one of your lip?"

"Again. It's not important."

Robin furrowed her eyes, "You're so… _weird_ , Brick. So secretive and quiet. Yet you command so much attention to yourself."

"Okay?"

"I mean, you've been here for almost half of a year, but I don't know anything about you except for your name, how athletic you are, and the achievements you've made since getting here… it's just strange."

"It really isn't," he dismissed, staring blankly at the girl.

Robin flipped her long, chestnut hair over her shoulder, smirking, "I just want to get to know you better, Brick. Everyone is constantly talking about you except for yourself."

"Fascinating," Brick deadpanned.

Robin did her best to hide the irritation she felt from his reaction, keeping a friendly vibe. "Like what is your favorite show? Movie? What was your home life like?"

"Aren't you on the yearbook committee?" Brick questioned as she nodded. "That's the best journalistic questioning you've got?" he quipped, chuckling darkly to himself. "I'm glad I didn't buy the yearbook now."

"What? I—" Robin paused, calming herself down. She continued, despite the slight twitch from her right eye out of irritation, "What about your _romantic_ life? Huh? You're the most eligible bachelor here."

"Nothing to comment on," he said tightly.

" _Really_?" Her voice going up a higher octave. "Not even with both Stacey and Princess expressing interest? Or even 90% of the school's campus? You _must_ be interested in someone, Brick. Are you just one of those people who like to keep their relationships private or do you have to keep it secret? Is it like, _forbidden love_ or something?"

"Robin. I don't have to tell you shit about my life, so just stop trying," he said flatly. On the outside, he seemed calm and unbothered, but on the inside, alarms were going off in his head. He made the mental note for Blossom and him to both stay away from Robin in case of anything. The only thing that remained branded in his mind was the question of how Robin seemed close to figuring out the truth. Blossom and him were nearly spotless in their interactions—other than around the group.

"You're not what everyone says," Robin replied, feeling insulted by her treatment. She made sure to present herself more like the victim. The brunette stood up, staring down at the redhead in the pool. "You're not a nice person _at all_."

Brick shrugged his shoulders, "I can't help you from believing the assumptions that everyone else makes about me."

"What else are we supposed to do? You don't let anyone get to know you."

"Newsflash, Robin. I want it that way," Brick replied with a smirk. "Get over it."

Robin crossed her arms, huffing out of annoyance. "Whatever, Brick." She turned on her heel, walking away from him. " _People will find out the real you soon enough_ ," she mumbled under her breath.

* * *

"Hey. Sorry, I'm late," Bubbles huffed, taking a seat at one of the tables in the Academy's library. "Practice ran longer than I thought since Princess was nowhere to be found—" she paused, her eyes going to the cup of green tea on the wooden table. The corners of her mouth smiling softly, "You bought me a drink, Dex?"

The redhead nodded bashfully, "Figured you would be thirsty after practice. It should also help your throat from all the singing you're doing."

"You didn't have to do that," she argued, feeling bad for asking too much from him already; especially now that he spent money on her.

"It's fine, Bubbles."

"It's not fine. Next time, I'll pay, okay?"

Dexter raised an eyebrow, "Next time?"

"Yeah… unless you found everything I need about my dad," she said quietly. After a period of some serious contemplating and ignoring her longing, Bubbles decided to enlist Dexter in helping her find out more information about her dad and how she may be able to contact him. The day before, she met up with the redhead to exchange any information she had about the man who is her father—which really was just his name and that he works in real estate in San Mateo.

"Oh… right," Dexter coughed, adjusting his glasses and grabbing his notebook, flipping through pages containing his disorganized writing, pausing at the list he created toward the end of the notebook, "Let's see. He's 43. Caucasian with a Scottish and Norwegian descent." Bubbles nodded, noting that Blossom was correct about her being half-Hispanic, instead of full blood. "He's originally from and grew up in Portland, Maine. Graduated from Wake Forest University and then got his graduate degree at the University of Central Florida." Dexter looked up, meeting Bubbles' light blue eyes, "Which is probably how he met your mother."

"Yeah…" she breathed. All this information made her more anxious about the subject. It made her feel like there was more distance between them due to her not having any knowledge of these aspects about him.

"And I know this was a little bit illegal, but after a little hacking, I found his personal cellphone number too," Dexter murmured sheepishly.

Bubbles' eyes widened, "Dexter!" she whispered harshly, "Why would you do that? You can get in some serious trouble."

He shrugged his shoulders, "It took me awhile to realize it, but you are the nicest person I've ever met. So I would do anything to help you because I know you would do the same for me… Plus, someone once told me it's better to display kindness over everything else—even in consideration of breaking the law."

Bubbles smiled greatly at the memory, "Thank you, Dexter." She reached out over the table, wrapping her arms around the redhead even though she was aware of his discomfort with affection. However, Dexter did not mind her hug, returning it and hiding the slight pinkness in his cheeks.

* * *

"Well… that was tiresome," Boomer sighed, running his hand through his drenched hair. Swim practice had ended and he was finally allowed to dive in the pool with everyone gone. Brick was the only one who remained with him, as the two decided to race each other to help prepare for the swimming meet that would take place in the next week. In his mind, there was no chance they would be able to win. There was not enough time to get everyone ready, and there was no way him and Brick could carry the team to a victory. The blond was starting to believe it was better that he just let Him end program already.

"That race? Hell yeah, it was," Brick replied, panting heavily, his hands on his knees as he tried to regain his breathing to normalcy. Racing Boomer was the most difficult athletic challenge he has had in a long time. The blond was practically born with gills, gliding through the water with ease while Brick struggled to catch up despite his above average swimming skills.

Boomer shook his head, grinning widely, "Nah. I barely got winded during that. I was talking about all the coaching."

Brick winced as he removed his hands from his knees, patting Boomer's back, still breathing heavily, "Just the perks of being the team captain."

"Yeah…" his smile faded as he grabbed his towel off of a nearby pool chair. "I don't know if I'm cut out to be the captain, man. Like, I'm Boomer. Dumb Boomer. If we fail, no one is going to bat an eye because it's me… because I can't do anything right."

Brick furrowed his eyebrows, "That's not true, Boom. This shit. This shit is your area of expertise," he argued. "Plus. Dude. Don't listen to what people say about you. None of that shit matters if you know who you are. You're more than anything they say."

Boomer nodded, taking in his words, his negatives from before shrinking in size as he grinned brightly, "Thanks. I… I needed that."

" _What are friends for_?" Brick smirked.

"Yeah. I've just been in my head lately about my lack of importance to everything that's going on and I—"

Before Boomer could continue, the gate to the pool's entrance squeaked open, alerting the two of Blossom's presence. Brick smiled to himself, feeling his chest tightening from the very sight of her.

"Hey Blossom," Boomer greeted. Blossom waved at him, her eyes darting to Brick as she smiled mischievously at him. "You're here for your swimming lessons?"

"Yeah," she replied once she was in front of the guys. "I'm just hoping Brick will go easy on me."

"We'll see about that," Brick teased, playfully nudging her arm.

Boomer nodded, "Well, I'll leave you guys to it," he said, leaving the pool and heading for the locker rooms to take a shower to rinse off the chlorine.

"So…" Blossom smiled, wrapping her arms around Brick's neck. "Are you ready for my "swimming lessons"?"

Brick nodded, resting his hands on her hips, "Yeah. I was thinking we could start out with you learning a breathing technique or maybe do some kicking."

Blossom threw her head back, furrowing her eyebrows, "Wait… You were serious about teaching me?"

"Yeah?"

"I thought this was a plot to get us alone."

Brick grinned, "It is but I saw it more as killing two birds with one stone. You learn to swim and then afterward, you can treat your teacher."

"Sounds kinky," she smirked.

"Only if you make it that way."

Blossom chuckled to herself, gesturing towards the pool, "Do I really have to get in there? I don't want to get my hair wet. I just straightened it this morning."

"You straightened your hair?"

"Yeah. Every other day."

Brick ran his hand through her hair, "So what is it like naturally?"

"Mixture of curly and wavy," she revealed. "I don't think it's polished enough for me."

Brick shrugged his shoulders, "Why would you need to be polished? You're still going to beautiful either way."

"I… you know, I don't even know anymore."

Brick smirked to himself, "Then you're going into the pool." He picked Blossom by her thighs, heading towards the stairs of the pool.

"Brick! No! Please no! I don't know how to swim!" she protested, tightening her hold around his neck. "I swear if you drop me—"

"I'm not going to," he said softly as the water was at their waist. He went a little deeper, stopping at where the water met their chests. The ends of Blossom's hair flowing in the chlorine-filled water as her legs were wrapped firmly around his waist.

"I don't like this…" Blossom said anxiously.

"You're fine. I got you," Brick reassured. "Just trust me." Blossom nodded, lightening her grip on his neck and staring into his eyes. Inhaling deeply, Blossom felt her body loosen up. "Better?"

"Yeah…"

"Good. We'll just get you use to being in the water today," he smirked, twirling them around slowly enough that they would not get dizzy from it.

"How many times have you done this?" Blossom asked after a few minutes of them enjoying the silence between them.

"Done what?"

"Tried to impress a girl like this."

"In a pool?"

"In any bodies of water."

Brick pondered over the question, "Maybe three or four girls." He pressed his forehead against hers, "But that was simply to go skinny dipping… it wasn't anything like this."

"And what is this?"

" _This_. This is me simply enjoying your company without needing anything sexual to happen."

Blossom smiled softly at him, "You just know what to say, don't you?"

"With you? _Always._ "

Blossom laughed lightly, pulling back a little to look around the pool. The Academy's pool was in a secluded corner of campus that barely got any foot-traffic but also was hidden due to a six-foot wall surrounding it. The only way to look into the area was climbing over the wall or from the entrance. Being here, made Blossom feel like Brick and she were alone. They were not at the Academy anymore. They were just together and nothing else in the world mattered anymore.

"So… Were you really a lifeguard?"

Brick nodded, "Three summers in a row. Kept me in shape for football and the paychecks helped my mom keep the AC running during those months."

"Let me get this straight. You were a lifeguard, a star-football and lacrosse player, now you're on the swim team, and you're academically inclined," Blossom listed with a amused smile.

"Yup."

"And you teased me about being an overachiever?"

Brick laughed lowly at this, "Took you long enough to figure that out."

"Oh my god," she giggled, swatting his arm lightly, "You're the worst."

"But you wouldn't want me any other way," he smirked, stopping his spinning, feeling like they have had enough time in the water, and taking them towards the stairs.

"Correct," Blossom said huskily, her hands cupping his face. Brick grinned at her as he placed her on one of the pool chairs. He unraveled himself from her, grabbing a towel for her and taking a seat next to her. As she ran the cotton material against her porcelain skin, she spoke quietly. "I think Butch wanted to have sex last night."

Brick raised an eyebrow, his pulse heightening, " _Oh really_?"

"Yeah… but I made sure nothing happened. I told him that I wasn't in the mood and he respected it..." Blossom paused for heat before speaking lowly. "We actually haven't done anything sexually since the basketball game."

"That's good," Brick replied, replaying that night where she confessed that she was interested him after all in his mind.

"Yeah… it is," she mumbled. "But I really just wanted to tell him the real reason why... That I only want _you_."

Brick grinned at her, leaning in to press his lips against hers. Blossom swiftly dropped her towel, rolling over on top of Brick. Their hands going wild against each other as Blossom's wet hair was sticking to their skins. Trailing her hands against his bare skin, Blossom dipped her hand into his swim trunk as Brick groaned against her mouth.

* * *

Shutting his locker, Boomer unzipped his backpack furiously, searching through it for his goggles. Only crumbled up pieces of paper fell out, alerting him that he left his goggles at the pool. Exiting the locker room and heading back to the pool, Boomer pulled out his phone, noting how long of a shower he took. Exactly twenty-five minutes have passed. He figured that Blossom and Brick must be finishing up their swimming lessons right about now, concluding that he might as well wait for them to get dinner together.

On his way to the pool, the blond paused, his ears perking up. From what he could hear over the pool wall, he heard echoing of someone moaning—or maybe two people. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, standing on his tippy toes to look over the pool's wall—this was one of the rare times he wished he was 6 feet in height. His blue eyes widened at the sight before him, quickly dropping back down to the flat of his feet.

He buried his face in his hands, trying to comprehend what he saw. The fact that he just witnessed Blossom and Brick making out. He was also sure that Blossom was in the middle of giving the redhead a handjob but Boomer was not 100% sure.

Boomer processed the options he had, whether he should ignore what he saw or say something. Despite not making a decision, he found himself shouting over the wall, letting the redheads know of his presences.

"Hey. Have you seen my goggles?" Boomer yelled over the wall, giving the two a minute to adjust themselves.

At the sound of Boomer's voice, Blossom and Brick separated swiftly. Blossom re-tied her bikini top that Brick had untied while Brick covered his crotch with a nearby towel, imagining unflattering images in his mind to calm himself down.

Blossom stood to her feet, grabbing the towel from the ground to wrap around her waist. She felt her cheeks rising in heat but knew that she could blame her "swimming lessons" on why she appeared that way.

Both slightly winced when the gate to the pool opened and Boomer's head popping in. He grinned at the redheads, taking notice to Blossom rushing over to the gate herself.

"Done already?"

"Yeah," she answered quickly. "I think I got a handle on breathing today."

"That's great. What's tomorrow's agenda?"

"Um…"

"Kicking," Brick replied, still holding a towel over his crotch but stood by Boomer and Blossom.

"Yeah. That," Blossom replied, reaching out for the gate's door. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Boomer waved, smiling brightly as Brick sighed to himself.

That was too close, the redhead thought to himself.

"You were looking for your goggles, right?" Brick questioned immediately as Blossom left, hoping it would distract Boomer enough from any further questioning about their swimming lessons.

The blond nodded, "Yeah. I think I left them over by the diving board."

Brick glanced back, narrowing his eyes to see, "I think I see them." He walked over to area reaching down to grab them. Straightening himself out, Brick widened his eyes while turning around, surprised to see Boomer right behind him. He was even more shocked when Boomer reached out to him with force, pushing him into the pool.

However, Boomer was not prepared for Brick's quick reflexes as he grabbed a hold of the blond's arm, dragging him into the pool also—despite him being fully dressed in his shirt, shorts, and sneakers now.

Coming up for air, Boomer hit with water being splashed furiously into his face. He winced, trying to ignoring the stinging feeling from the chlorine in his eyes. Once Boomer was able to open his eyes, he was met with daggers from a soaking wet Brick.

"What the fuck was that for?" Brick shouted, splashing water at his face again. This time, Boomer was prepared, blocking the wave from hitting his face.

The blond spat out a little water he swallowed from Brick's first splash, speaking quietly, " _I saw you_."

"Saw me doing what, Boomer? What the fuck—"

"I saw you kissing Blossom…"

Brick's face fell, all of his outrage fleeing his body. His mind searched for any excuse he could find to cover up what Boomer thinks he saw.

"I was giving her CPR," he lied. "She didn't have her breathing under control all the way. It wasn't kissing."

"Then why did she have her fucking hand in your swim-trunks, bro?" Boomer argued, his eyes narrowed. He was disappointed that Brick decided to lie instead of being honest with him. "I don't know about you but they sure as hell didn't teach me that way in my CPR classes."

"Boomer, it's not what—"

"I'm not fucking stupid, Brick," the blond snapped. "Despite what everyone thinks, I'm not stupid." Brick widened his eyes, having never seen Boomer behave in any way other than being zen or content. "I know what I saw…"

A silence fell between the two as they stared at each other, only the sound of the pool's filter being heard. Boomer glared at the redhead while Brick's face was a mixture of frustration and disappointment at himself. There was only one way he can get out of this pool.

He had to tell the truth.

Sighing to himself, Brick spoke, "Fine… you're right… we were making out." His eyes lowering to the liquid they stood in, muttering, "And more…"

Boomer, this time, splashed water at the redhead face, disgusted by his confession. "What the fuck, man? That's Butch's girl."

Brick wiped the water out of his eyes but droplets still remained in his eyelashes, his jaw tightening, "Like I don't fucking know that."

"Is this how you treat your friends?" he seethed. "Because I want no fucking part of your friendship if that is."

"No, it's not," Brick argued. "This situation with Blossom is completely different."

"How? Why would you ever attempt to mess around with her?"

"Because…" he inhaled deeply, "Because I've never felt this way before, Boom… this is the closest I've ever come to being committed to a person and a relationship… I don't know. When I'm with her, I can't help but be happy. And… I guess on my first day here, we made a connection at this party. I don't realize it then but I started to develop feelings for her," he finished.

Only the last part was a lie. Brick knew he was attracted to Blossom the moment he saw her, he just did not acknowledge it. The day he developed feelings for her was the night they went to the diner together for Keane's project. He would have told Boomer that too but Brick wanted it to be a private memory. Just something between them two.

"You've liked her ever since then?" Boomer questioned, his expression softening.

"Yeah."

"And I didn't know?"

"I mean… I thought it was pretty obvious what was going on—at least, from our group's perspective."

Boomer nodded, his mind pondering over any clues to Brick's crush but was drawing a blank. Maybe he should start paying attention more.

Despite this, the blond still did not agree with what was going on.

"How are you even okay with this? She has a boyfriend."

"Boom. I'm not a nice guy—"

"Yeah, you are."

"Yeah, sure," Brick dismissed sarcastically. "But anyway… it just got to the point where I stopped caring. That I wanted to be with her so badly that I didn't care about Butch anymore."

"You like her that much to risk your friendship and possible existence?"

"Yeah…" Brick smiled softly, thinking about Blossom. "Yeah, I do."

Boomer nodded, "Alright," he responded before swimming over to the pool's staircase. Brick followed suit, walking over to where Boomer was drying himself off.

"Hey… um," Brick coughed, easing the awkward tension between the two. "Thanks for hearing me out."

"Anytime."

"And Boom, I know you're close with Butch but I'm going to need you to keep this a secret. Blossom is going to break up with him soon. She's just waiting it out for a week or two."

Boomer nodded, wiping his legs, "Yeah… I'm not doing that."

"What?" Brick questioned, baffled by Boomer's decision.

"I'm not okay with your affair, Brick. I'm sorry but Butch has been my best friend longer than you. Therefore, I'll have his back over you."

"Boomer. I don't think you realize how bad it will be if Butch finds out," the redhead argued.

Boomer shrugged his shoulders before wrapping the towel around his neck, "And that's not my fault. You and Blossom brought this on yourselves. If you're so afraid of Butch's reaction, then you shouldn't have started shit," he countered, heading towards the pool's entrance.

Brick grabbed his arm, turning him around. With desperation in his eyes, Brick spoke rapidly, "What if I end it? If I end things between Blossom and me? Would you not say anything?" he questioned, continuing before Boomer could response. "Because technically, there is nothing to speak about if it is all in the past. Right?"

Boomer mulled over his offer, nodding his head, "That is doable… but you better not be lying to me, Brick. Or you'll have bad karma for the _next_ _ten years._ "

Brick grinned widely, " _Consider it done_ ," he lied.

* * *

"He threatened you?" Blossom questioned in shock, her voice a little too high enough for eavesdroppers to hear, as she poured sulfate into a test tube. They were in the middle of doing a lab for Professor Utonium's class. As soon as their teacher said they could choose their lab partners for the day, Brick practically ran to Blossom, knowing he had to tell her about Boomer.

"Yes but keep it down," he whispered, directing her to do the next step of their lab.

"Sorry…"

"It's fine... Like I was saying, he was going to say something but I told him I would end things."

"Which I know for sure you're not," Blossom replied, meeting Brick's eyes for reassurance.

He nodded, "Of course not. This is just another road bump."

"I like that mentality," she said huskily, her hand lightly grazing against Brick's.

Brick smirked, taking a step closer to her so their bodies were pushed together side by side, "What else do you like?"

Biting down on her lips, Blossom wanted to jump his bones right there, and from the look Brick was giving her, she could tell he wanted the same. However, they both realized why they could not at the same time, taking a step apart and continuing their lab.

Brick cleared his throat, holding a beaker over a hot plate, speaking quietly as he watched the liquid boil, "Janitor's closet after lunch?"

Not breaking her eyes off the worksheet she was writing on, Blossom replied, "Definitely… You have any…"

"Yeah."

" _Sounds perfect_ …" Brick smiled devilishly to himself, taking the beaker off the hot plate. "So about Boomer… what are you going to do?"

"I was thinking about just separating myself from the group again."

"But then Butch and Buttercup will know something is up."

"Fuck…"

"You know. There something I've noticed lately. As an incredibly attractive guy—"

"Why thank you," he grinned.

"No problem, _pretty boy_ ," Blossom smiled back at him, continuing, "But as I was saying, you're handsome, athletic, intelligent… you're a catch but then you've haven't dated a single person here."

His eyes drifted to hers, "That's because I've been preoccupied."

"Duh… but while the school doesn't know why you wouldn't date anyone, the whole group now knows why."

"Okay?" He furrowed his eyebrows.

"What I'm saying is, if you start "dating" someone else, not only will the school not correlate us together if they were having any assumptions but also the group will believe that you've finally moved on."

Brick smirked to himself, "That's actually a pretty solid plan."

"Thank you," Blossom grinned.

Brick held up the solution they had created to the light, squinting his eyes, "So that begs the question of who I'm going to make my "girlfriend" then."

"There's always Stacey," Blossom replied, trying not to cringe at the idea. She would hate the idea of Stacey getting her hands on Brick but in this case, it was for the greater good of their relationship.

"I need a fake girlfriend, Bloss. Not a way to kill off brain cells," he retorted, putting the beaker down and writing down the changes he observed.

Blossom chuckled at his comment, "Alright. Well, it's not hard to find someone who would want to date you here. Everyone is obsessed with you."

"I know. It's pretty exhausting," he quipped.

Blossom briefly patted his shoulder, "Don't worry. In a few weeks, I'll finally be able to scare off all those girls."

"And I can't wait," Brick grinned.

"But again, Brick, you need to find someone."

"I don't know. I have a loose sense of morals," he gestured between the two of them. " _Obviously_ ―but I don't feel right using a person this way."

"So you're not going to do it?"

Brick shook his head, "No. I'm going to do it. I just need someone I wouldn't care about using… I need a person that's so fucking terrible, that I wouldn't seem like a bad guy for doing anything."

Blossom smiled wickedly to herself, "I think I have the _perfect_ candidate."

* * *

Ms. Keane sighed to herself, grading the last of her student's latest papers. Drawing a large "B" in red ink, she felt a wave of relief wash over her, looking up from her desk to see she had a visitor.

"Trying to sneak up on me, John?"

Professor Utonium shook his head, walking slowly to her desk, coughing lightly, "Of course not. Are you done?"

"Yeah…" she nodded, smiling weakly. "Did you tell them?"

"Indeed, I did… my AP class didn't take it so well."

"I know that if my best teacher was retiring within a month, I would too," she mumbled, not bearing enough courage to make eye contact with him. She was still having a rough time with the news of his departure.

"Karen. I know this is a lot all at once—"

"I'm fine, John. I've made my peace with everything…" she said sullenly. "It's just the kids I'm worried about. What if they…"

"They wouldn't find out," he reassured.

"How can you be so sure?"

He smiled brightly, tilting his head, "I've always been an optimist, Karen. You should know this by now… I firmly believe that everything will be okay."

"Okay then…"

* * *

Sliding against the cool surface of the metal lockers, Brick put on his most charming smile as the individual behind the locker he stood next to, closed their's, furrowing their eyebrows at him.

"Hey, _Princess_."

The redhead girl smiled wolfishly at him but was surprised to see Brick approaching her, "Hey Brick."

"So I was wondering…" he looked to the tile flooring, playing off that he seemed a little nervous with his questioning. Brick then looked up, meeting her dark eyes, "Princess. How would feel about going out on a date tonight?"


	18. Double Trouble

"Go Boomer!" Buttercup cheered loudly from the pool's bleachers. To her left, Bubbles was biting her bottom lip from anxiousness. On her right, Butch was on his feet, preparing himself to watch the race with an attentive eye. Next to the raven-haired male, sat Blossom, who remained mum. She watched with concern due to the other redhead across the pool, who was dripping wet and panting heavily from finishing the butterfly race minutes ago—Brick ended up getting first place by the narrowest margins, thanks to his long wingspan.

Boomer grinned at his cheering section before getting into racing position. Pushinh away all his worries and doubts, the pressure in which had amount on him as this final event would determine if the swim team remained or not, Boomer's mind went blank, only focusing on the matter at hand.

The starter pistol for the race shot out, alerting the swimmers to dive into the pool. Boomer jumped in with flawless form, gaining a head start from the others. Coming up for air, he began his precise movements for the breaststroke, using his effortless speed in the water to his advantage. By the time he turned against the wall, the other swimmers were four seconds behind him.

"Holy shit!" Butch exclaimed, turning to Buttercup who now was standing up and had the same amount of enthusiasm as him. "I think he could break the high school record!"

Buttercup nodded furiously, "Let's fucking go, Boomer!"

"Please tell me when it's over," Bubbles whispered nervously, her eyes closed shut as she prayed silently to herself.

"Bubs. He's going to win," Buttercup reassured, her eyes never leaving the pool.

Boomer turned again, still hanging onto his lead, gliding with ease through the water. He had pushed ahead even more, not even growing tired as he kicked off against the wall one more time. Within seconds, his fingertips grazed against the concrete wall of the other side of pool, his head popping completely out of the water to see everyone who showed up from the Academy, cheering brightly for him.

He pumped his fist in the air victoriously, splashing the water around him in excitement. After a week of teaching the new swim team and having the fear of the program ending, Boomer felt overcome with a sense of joy and pride for accomplishing something for once.

"Yeah! That's my boyfriend!" Bubbles shouted on the top of lungs. Boomer grinned at her, blowing a kiss as he got out of the pool.

Buttercup nudged her arm, chuckling, "Feeling more confident now?"

"Of course! I'm so proud of him," Bubbles cooed.

"I bet, Bubs," Butch chimed, turning to Blossom to see her reaction to everything. He furrowed his eyebrows as he found her still sitting on the bench, texting on her phone. "Hey. You alright?"

Blossom glanced up, forcing a small smile and shoving her phone in her purse, "Yeah. I just had an email to check."

Butch wanted to point out he definitely saw she was using _iMessage_ but decided not to push anything since this moment was about celebrating Boomer.

"Bro, we did!" Boomer smiled, pulling Brick into a bro-hug on the opposite side of the pool from the bleachers. "The swim team is here to stay!"

"Told you that we had nothing to worry about," Brick replied, patting Boomer's back before they pulled apart. "Now we need to focus on attaining a winning record."

"We'll worry about that later," Boomer dismissed lightly. "Right now, we're going to go celebrate."

* * *

After Townsville Academy was declared the winner and a very lengthy group hug among everyone included, the swim team invited the crowd to join them off-campus to commemorate their win. They decided on a popular pizza place called _Donatello's._ Originally based around a Italian renaissance theme, the place was taken over by new owners five years back. Since then, the owners have changed the aesthetic of the restaurant, appeasing the teenage audience who lived in close proximity to them.

The booths contained worn out red vinyl leather seating and there was a large chalkboard wall for anyone to draw on. In the right corner of the place, numerous vintage pinball machines stood, while TVs hung from the ceiling with multiple sporting events on each screen.

Once arriving, everyone diverged into their own groups. Bubbles conversated with the few people preparing their plates at the salad bar. Boomer and the underclassmen from the swim team were challenging each other on who can eat the most pizza slices—so far, Boomer was winning. Blossom sat in a booth by herself, not touching the veggie pizza in front of her due to being glued to her phone. Then there was Buttercup and Butch, who were consumed in a private conversation by the pinball machines.

"I don't know what to do. I want to fill out that scholarship but the letter of recommendation part is fucking me up," he complained while playing the _Journey to Atlantis_ theme pinball game. "I don't think anyone would write one for me because I was a jackass to them for the last three years."

Buttercup leaned against the machine, a cup of _Coke_ in her hand, "There's always Ms. Keane," she suggested. "But I have her writing mine."

"Nah. I'm not going to screw you over like that."

"It's not screwing me over, Butch."

"I'm still not going to ask her."

Buttercup sighed to herself, glancing around the room in thought, her eyes landing on Blossom. She raised her eyebrow eagerly, "What about Him? I know Blossom had Him write some of her letters of recommendation."

"You think he would do that?" Butch questioned in disbelief, taking his eyes off the pinball game. Because of this, the ball slid out, notifying him that he lost the game. He glanced back at it, mumbling, "Fuck."

Buttercup shrugged her shoulders, "I mean, yeah. Him is probably the best person to write it for you too. Him has personally seen how much you have grown in the past semester."

"Yeah…" Butch pursued his lips in thought, grabbing his drink from the top of the pinball machine. "You do have a point and it is my _only_ option."

"So you're going to do it? Because if you are, you're welcome," she teased.

"Possibly," he smirked, ruffling her hair. "Thanks, B. I'm so glad that we've become friends."

Buttercup raised an eyebrow at him calling her _B,_ ignoring it in favor of the uneasiness she felt. "Yeah… me too," she croaked, looking around the restaurant again to escape the tightened nervousness she felt in her chest.

This was slowly becoming a familiar feeling when she was around Butch. Mainly, it occurred when he complimented her. It made her feel… well, she was not sure on how to feel. It was just a constant unsettledness of not knowing why she felt this way. All she knew was she did not like thinking about it for too long.

Which was why Buttercup was glad when the door to the pizza shop chimed open, diverting her attention to the couple who entered.

"Um…" Her eyes went wide, mouth agape, clutching onto Butch's arm while pointing, "When did that fucking happen?" she questioned, her eyes drifting to her hand tightly wrapped around his bicep, dropping it immediately to her side before Butch took full notice to her action.

Butch snapped his neck to what she was pointing to, sharing the same expression. "I have no fucking clue."

At the door stood Brick and Princess, hand and hand, conversing in light banter with some nearby classmates while not noticing the numerous stares they were getting from the rest of the restaurant.

"Hey, are you still using this, Butch?" Boomer asked, gesturing towards the pinball machine, catching the dark-haired individuals off-guard as they were too distracted to even notice him approaching them.

"What? Oh. Um, yeah," Butch coughed, stepping out of the way. He nudged Boomer's shoulder as the blond placed a quarter in the machine. "Did you know about that?"

"What? Brick and Princess?" Boomer questioned, tossing a casual glance at the two. "Yeah. Took me by surprise too because…"

He trailed off when he stared back into Butch's curious eyes, realizing it was something he promised he would not speak about since Brick kept up his end of the bargain. The redhead confirmed to him the day after their deal was made that he ended things with Blossom and had decided to pursue things with Princess to keep himself from getting too much in his head about it—a coping mechanism Brick claimed helps him when dealing with girl problems. It was a method Boomer did not agree with but it did keep Brick away from Blossom, so the blond did not see an reason to speak up about his lack of approval.

However, a small voice in him did say to not fully trust Brick since he did lie before to the blond. But Boomer decided to ignore it in hopes to see the best in his friend.

"You know, since it's Princess, but Brick says Princess broke him down after spending more time with her during swim practice," Boomer finished.

"Oh really?" Buttercup narrowed her eyes, not believing a single word of Boomer's claim. She pulled Butch aside, speaking lowly to him, "I think this is a bunch of bullshit."

"How do you know?"

She tossed her eyes around the restaurant, mainly focusing on Brick. Buttercup noted how he would glanced back almost every forty seconds like clockwork. Looking to where his eyes kept going, Buttercup shook her head in disgust.

"Because he keeps looking back at Blossom," Buttercup pointed out as Blossom did the same as Brick. She felt her blood beginning to boil because this pretty much confirmed to her the two redheads did rekindle their affair when she was gone. However, Buttercup repressed her rage, needing to finish her conversation with Butch. "And she is too."

Butch arched his eyebrow, seeing what she was talking about concerning Brick but did not witness Blossom looking at him, "Brick is, yeah. But Blossom wouldn't do that."

"Butch."

"We've been over this, B. I trust Blossom."

"If you trust her so much, why don't you ask her about how she feels about Brick?" Buttercup suggested, a smug smile plastered on her face.

"I… I, um… I don't want to accuse her of anything," Butch stuttered. In reality, he was too scared to hear what Blossom had to say. Buttercup had gotten in his head lately and was getting the message of Brick's crush not being so one-sided; but like he said to Buttercup, he trusted his girlfriend. But maybe it was time he tested his trust for her.

"Then I don't know what to say," the dark-haired girl muttered, feeling stupid for even trying to get Butch to see what was in front of him.

"You know… I could prove that Brick and Princess are bullshit though," he smirked mischievously.

"And how would you do that?"

"Double date," he revealed. "I can see if it's just a ruse to get Blossom's attention… or to distract us from the attraction they have for each other," he murmured the last part.

Buttercup raised her eyebrows, satisfied by Butch's plan. "I'm a fan of this."

Butch nodded, excusing himself to talk to his girlfriend. Putting on a cool grin, he slid into the weathered booth, sitting across from Blossom and grabbing a slice of pizza from the plate that sat in front of her.

"Hey beautiful," he greeted. "Are you really going to be on your phone the whole time?"

Blossom inhaled slowly, glancing up from her phone, "Sorry. I'm just really preoccupied with planning the retirement assembly for Professor Utonium."

"It's fine, but I think you're forgetting to have some fun."

Blossom felt her stomach swirl, biting into her cheek to prevent herself from saying anything damaging. She avoided his stare, knowing if Butch saw the type of fun she has been having for the past two weeks, he would retract his statement immediately.

"Maybe so…"

"You know," he paused, taking a bite of her veggie pizza. "We should go out Sunday night," Butch suggested, still chewing as he spoke. "Have a date night again."

"I—"

"And we should invite Princess and Brick to come along too," Butch finished, taking another bite. "Do a double date."

"Um…" Blossom blinked at him, searching for any excuses she could make to get out this. "I don't think that would be a good idea," she said sheepishly. "I mean, we both hate Princess. So why would we voluntarily want to spend more time with her then we need to?"

Butch shrugged his shoulders, stuffing the crust of the pizza into his mouth, "I think it's time for us to just get over everything."

"What? Why?" Blossom questioned quickly. She felt her cheeks beginning to heat up, embarrassed by her brashness to her questioning.

"She's dating one of our _close friends_ now. We might as well get to know her and see if she's actually the monster that she presents herself to be," Butch explained calmly. "She could just _pretending_ to be horrible, you know?"

"Oh…" was all she could say as she tried to find something to reply with. Her pink eyes drifted around to everyone around them, hoping something would stick out to her. Buttercup's cold lime-green eyes staring at her before darting them away once they made eye contact with Blossom, was what caught her attention.

Blossom glanced at Butch, finding his cool demeanor to be a bit out of character. She quickly came to the conclusion she was being set up by him and Buttercup. Blossom resisted the urge to scowl at him and go confront Buttercup—she knew that the green-eyed girl has not revealed her secret because Butch would not be this calm around her if he did, but she did have the sense Buttercup was manipulating Butch to not be oblivious to everything—instead, she opted with the decision to go along with their little game.

With a coy grin on her face, Blossom spoke, "Actually. Let's do it. Let's go on this double date."

* * *

After Butch's proposal and realizing Buttercup's involvement the night before, Blossom immediately told Brick in the morning. They both agreed going on the double date was the best plan, not making any suggestions to cool down their relationship despite it seeming like everyone was slowly figuring it out. Instead, they made plans to meet up later in the night. Blossom saw the opportunity as Buttercup informed her of needing to study for a Trigonometry test with Bubbles in the library; while Brick simply told Butch, he would be hanging out with Princess to avoid any questioning.

Free to do whatever they wanted, the two redheads' occupied one of the classroom's in the agricultural building. Brick was trailing his mouth along her jawline to her neck, breathing in her rose-scented perfume like his life depended on it. Blossom ran her hands through his hair, sitting on top of a desk while Brick stood in between her legs. She placed his hat on the desk next to them, her mind lost in thought.

"Do you think we bit off more than we could chew?" Blossom whispered. Brick lifted his head up, pressing his forehead against hers, "I don't think we factored in Butch getting close to Buttercup."

"No, we did not," Brick chuckled lightly.

"I know. So like, did we make things more messier than they already were?"

Brick shrugged his shoulder, flicking Blossom's bangs out of her eyes, "Things wouldn't be so messy if you just broke up with Butch already." He placed his finger against her lips, prepared for the exaggerated sigh that was going to follow from him suggesting the couple's break up once again. "Before you get all huffy, I would like to point out that Butch doesn't even seem depressed about college anymore."

Blossom lightly kissed his finger, grinning softly before speaking, "I agree… but you know, it will look suspicious if I break up with him right before our double date tomorrow."

"So just break up with him afterward."

"Alright."

Brick cocked an eyebrow, "Wait. Let me get this straight. We're going on the date and then it's break up time?" he asked eagerly.

"Yes," Blossom giggled to herself, finding his reaction to be cute. "I will finally break up with Butch."

"Oh thank god," he breathed against her lips, looking at her through his eyelashes. "This whole thing was really dragging on."

Blossom grinned sheepishly, pulling him into a deep kiss, leaving both of them breathless when they broke apart.

"It will be over soon," she whispered into his ear. "I promise."

* * *

"Whoever said math was a necessity, was full of shit," Buttercup complained, rubbing her temples out of frustration.

"Butters, you're planning on going into sports medicine. Math is a big part of that career path," Bubbles responded warily. She was also exhausted from their studying. The two have been in the library for over three hours and still have not made much progress.

"Then I might as well chose a new dream career," Buttercup responsed, gesturing to the textbook in her lap. "Because this shit is hard."

Bubbles sighed to herself, "I know… I'm so glad I only have to take one or two math classes in college and then I'm done with math forever."

"Lucky," Buttercup muttered as her phone flashed with a notification. She glanced down, reading the text message displayed on her screen.

 _ **Yo. You up for a game of basketball?**_

Buttercup smirked at the message, ignoring the slight warmth rising to her cheeks as she replied.

 _Can't. I'm suffering—I mean studying with Bubs right now._

She put her phone down, atempting to return her attention back to studying. Her eyes flashed with surprise when Butch replied in under ten seconds.

 _ **Yikkkeeesss… you should come then. Get a break. Plus, I'm soooo fucking bored right now.**_

 _Ask Brick._

 _ **He's out with Princess right now.**_

 _ **And he hates basketball.**_

 _I told you that he sucks._

 _ **I completely agree with you now, B.**_

 _Took you long enough._

Buttercup grinned at her phone, waiting for him to reply. She felt Bubbles elbow her side, gaining her attention again. The blonde had a curious eyebrow raised, glancing at Buttercup's phone and then to the raven-haired girl.

"Who are you talking to?" she sang.

Buttercup shoved her phone in her backpack, furrowing her eyebrows at the look Bubbles was giving her. It was the type of face a person made when they were about to tease their friend about a crush or something. Buttercup did not like it one bit.

"It's just a _friend_ from soccer camp."

" _A friend?_ What kind of _friend_?" Bubbles teased, grinned widely.

She was excited by the prospect of Buttercup getting giddy about a guy again after everything that happened with Mitch—she could tell Buttercup was into the person given how heavily she was blushing and the smile that did not cease from spreading as she texted them.

"Just a friend," Buttercup said flatly, growing agitated by having to explain herself to Bubbles.

"Alright. If you say so," the blonde said in a sing-songy tone.

Buttercup rolled her eyes, shutting her textbook. "I need a break from this shit. You want to go get some coffee or something?"

"I would prefer something from the smoothie bar since it's almost 8."

Buttercup nodded as they both rose to their feet, stuffing their belongs into their bags. They walked five minutes across campus to the smoothie bar by the Academy's gymnasium and were met with a moderate line. Upon entering the shop, Buttercup's eyes were immediately drawn to bright red curls in the corner of the space.

Those bright red curls were supposed to be with her boyfriend, according to Butch. Buttercup snorted to herself in disbelief.

"Hey, can you order for me?" Buttercup questioned. "I need to use the bathroom."

"Yeah. Of course. You get the strawberry-banana protein smoothie, right? Or is that Butch?" she thought to herself.

"That's Butch," Buttercup muttered, wanting to get him off her mind after Bubbles noseiness about their text messages. At the thought of what the blonde was attempting to imply. "I want a kiwi and pineapple smoothie with protein and immunity powder."

"Okay," Bubbles smiled as Buttercup left her side.

The dark-haired girl immediately approached the table of three girls in the back of the shop, making her presence known by making eye contact with their leader.

"Hey Princess," Buttercup greeted.

She glanced at the two others at the table to make them feel at least acknowledged. They all scrunched their noses at her, not pleased with her appearance—she was wearing black track pants and a mossy green hoodie; her black hair held up in a messy ponytail, her hair too short to be fully held up, resulting in a majority of her hair sticking out. Buttercup rolled her eyes, not caring about their judgement over how she looked. She was comfortable. That was all that matter to her.

"What do you want?" Princess questioned harshly, offended by Buttercup's interruption.

"Oh. I was just wondering if you knew where your boyfriend is?" Buttercup asked innocently. "Boomer is trying to get in contact with him."

"He's off-campus with some guy from Stanford," she replied with less hostility. Buttercup figured it was because Brick was being mentioned. She was also not surprised by the obvious lie Brick gave to the redhead.

"Oh right. I totally forgot about that," she lied. " _You must be so proud_."

Princess smiled lovingly at her, opening mouth to reply but snapped out of her daze to realize who she was talking to. "Yeah. I am," she said dismissively.

Buttercup nodded, leaving the table without saying another word. A small part of her felt bad for Princess. It was obvious the redhead truly did have feelings for Brick.

Her anger at Blossom and Brick was increasing for bring another party into their disgusting mess. For the willingness to hurting another person—even if it was Princess. Princess had feelings too and did not deserve to be used by them.

It grossed Buttercup out how much they were trying to hide their affair and the lack of regard they had for the others around them.

Was being together really worth hurting all these people?

* * *

Walking to the group's picnic table for breakfast, Buttercup and Blossom remained silent since leaving their dorm room together. Buttercup was still simmering from the confirmation to herself about Blossom messing around with Brick again—which was fueled even more when she peeked Blossom spending a lot of time putting makeup on her neck and was constantly pulling down her sleeping shorts to hide all the bruises on her thighs about an hour ago. It only told Buttercup, in the short span of the two to three weeks, they have had sex.

She just wanted to either puke or punch Blossom from how repulsed she was from the redhead's decision-making.

Blossom was quiet for another reason, as she was slightly pissed Buttercup was attempting to let Butch know about her and Brick.

Thankfully, the seemingly long walk was about to end as the table was in sight. Blossom smiled softly when her eyes landed on Brick, replaying their moments together from the night before in her mind.

Blossom felt a tug on her wrist, snapping her neck back to see Buttercup giving her a judgmental look. The redhead stood still, staring at the roots of the tree they were under. She knew Buttercup was about to confront her and Blossom would rather get it over with it than having to live in constant tension by skirting around it.

"I know what's going on," she said harshly.

Blossom nodded, sighing to herself. "I figured. I know you're the reason why Butch wants to go on a double date tonight."

"It wasn't my idea but yeah…" Buttercup narrowed her eyes, "I'm just trying to get him to see what's going on."

Blossom looked up at her, furrowing her eyebrows, "Why?"

"Because I believe in being a decent human," Buttercup defended, folding her arms.

"Since when?" Blossom questioned in disbelief. This was the same person who would skin someone alive for just looking at her the wrong way.

"It doesn't matter, Blossom," Buttercup dismissed, feeling disrespected by the redhead's reaction but pushed it aside. "What matters, is the fact you're still fucking around with Brick."

"Okay."

"Okay? _Okay_ _?_ That's all you have to say? What the hell happened to your whole feeling guilty phase?"

"I… um..."

Blossom chewed down on her bottom lip. If she were to be honest with Buttercup, the redhead would explain how, when she was with Brick, nothing mattered to her. Everything within her was calm and serene. There were no waves of guilt plaguing her.

To be more truthful, Blossom only had two triggers to the emotion of remorse. It was Butch and Buttercup. They were the gates in which allowed the guilt to flood into her conscience. With Butch, it was because Blossom knew he deserved better. He was too good for any of this. In terms of Buttercup, it was because the dark-haired girl knew what buttons to push. She knew how to unravel each and every flaw to Blossom in the most terrible fashion. Instead of encouraging her to embrace the imperfections she embedded—like Brick did—Buttercup helped illustrate how vile of a person Blossom was.

She made Blossom feel even more terrible of a person than she already did, if it was even possible.

In retrospect to Buttercup's question, Blossom has not spent much time with either Butch and Buttercup. This allowed her to continue on guilt free until one of the two popped up to remind her.

It was just another reason as to why Blossom would end her relationship with Butch.

"How far has it gotten?" Buttercup questioned icily despite already knowing the answer to the question.

"What?"

"How far has it gotten between you two?"

Blossom glanced around the courtyard, making sure there were no eavesdroppers, hanging her head low, "We… we've had sex… multiple times," she mumbled.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Blossom rolled her eyes, "No. I'm not… It just happened."

"You don't just so happen to fuck someone multiple times, Blossom."

Blossom looked up again, getting chills from the cold look Buttercup was giving her. "It wasn't just…"

Buttercup huffed angrily, "I don't give a fuck if it wasn't just fucking or if it was the most romantic ass shit. You're still cheating on Butch—"

"I'm ending it," she interjected, catching Buttercup off guard. "I'm going on the date tonight and then it will be over the next day. I promise."

Buttercup chuckled darkly to herself, "Last time you promise something to me, you said you'll stay away from Brick—and look where that has gotten you. You're fucking him now."

Blossom inhaled sharply, feeling wounded by Buttercup's harsh words. The dark-haired was reminding her of all the self-loathing she felt a month ago. However, she could not display this because then Buttercup would convince her to go against Brick again. "I actually mean it this time. I'm going to break up with him."

"And what? Are you going to tell him exactly why you're dumping him?"

Blossom did not speak for a solid ten seconds, letting Buttercup's question linger in the air.

"...No."

"You have to tell him," Buttercup pushed. "It's the right—"

"He already had enough on his plate with college and then the break up, Buttercup. Finding out that I cheated will make things ten times worse," Blossom argued, having those lines well-rehearsed since realizing Buttercup must have figured out her and Brick were together again.

"You should have thought about that before you fucked Brick," she countered, seething from Blossom's excuse because it did make good sense.

"I did. Trust me, I did."

"It doesn't seem like it."

Blossom glared at the dark-haired girl, "Buttercup. Just drop it already. Once I break up with him, none of this will be relevant anymore," she argued. Now was her time to pull out the ace up her sleeve, thanks to the green-eyed individuals' newfound closeness. Another aspect she has well-thought out in case of this scenario. "Plus. Imagine his reaction. It wouldn't do so well with his _anger management._ "

Buttercup blinked at the redhead, unable to form a response. She was correct. Butch discovering the affair would ruin all the progress he has made in bettering himself. Buttercup knew how proud Butch has become in his growth as a person and she did not want to be associated with the reason for disrupting it—even though Buttercup knew the secret has began to slow eat away at her as they got closer.

She stared blankly at Blossom, realizing the redhead had outplayed her.

"Fine."

Blossom smiled weakly at Buttercup, giving a single nod at the agreement, "It's better this way, Butters."

"Whatever you say," she grumbled.

* * *

For the double date, Butch chose a steakhouse twenty minute from the Academy. It was a regional-based chain restaurant, only built in the Northern California area. The atmosphere of the restaurant was semi-formal with dark wood, cream and deep reds as table linen, and low lightening—it was one of those places a high school student took their date to impress them while on a budget.

After getting their drinks and putting in their orders, it was commonly assumed around the table of the awkwardness between the four of them. Blossom was mainly withdrawn from any conversation, simply observing each interaction. Brick was on constant watch of Princess making a pass at him—the amount of times she has attempted to put her hand on his thigh was ridiculous. Butch tried to keep a conversation flowing, which only Princess would respond to while giving dirty looks at Blossom whenever she could.

"So what are your plans after all of this, Princess?" Butch questioned, taking a sip of his water.

Princess stared at her freshly manicured hands, "I have to attend Brown in the fall, per Daddy's request. But before I do, I'm thinking about staying in Bali for the summer."

Butch raised an eyebrow, putting his glass back down on the table, "Bali? That must be fucking nice."

She nodded, smirking, "I don't know what I would do if I wasn't born rich."

Blossom rolled her eyes at this as Butch continued on with the conversation, "You're going to need to visit California a lot, though. You know, since Brick is going to be playing at Stanford."

"I know," Princess grinned, rubbing her hand on Brick's broad shoulder as he startled a little from her touch. Blossom chewed the inside of her cheek to hide the amount of jealousy she felt. "He's going to be super adorable in his football uniform."

"I bet," Butch replied in amusement.

A silence fell among the four as Butch and Princess did not have anything else to say. Butch pursued his lips in thought, finding the redheads' muteness to be very odd. He could tell how uncomfortable they were and it made him believe Buttercup even more.

Princess tapped her foot impatiently, glancing over her shoulder for the waiter. When he was not in sight, she leaned forward into the table, talking lowly, "You know what would make this night better? If we got high as fuck."

"You brought weed here?" Brick exasperated, ignoring the part of him in which was slightly impressed by her ballsiness.

"I bring weed everywhere," Princess corrected, eyeing the three. "So are you in or not?"

Brick shook his head, "I got routine drug testing with Stanford."

Princess' eyes shifted to Blossom, already figuring what her answer would be. "I don't do drugs," the pink-eyed girl answered shortly.

"Butch?"

Butch glanced at the other two at the table, knowing the rest of the night was a bust. He, now, knew there was, in fact, something going on between Blossom and Brick—he just lacked the knowledge of how deep it was. Butch simply believed they liked each other but did not want to admit it to anyone.

Instead of being bored out of his mind and having to deal with the awkwardness anymore, Butch had the chance to have a little fun.

"You know what? I'm down."

Blossom tugged on the sleeve of the dress shirt he borrowed from Brick—Butch was greatly regretting this decision now—whispering her concern into his ear, "I thought you don't do stuff like this anymore."

Even if she was not going to be his girlfriend anymore, Blossom did care about Butch maintaining his sobriety.

"I don't drink anymore," he clarified, feeling his heartstrings being tugged when meeting her eyes. Despite knowing she may have feelings for another guy, Butch still loved her. He still wanted a future with her—which was why Butch knew he would not break up with her over this Brick situation. This was made more obvious to him by witnessing her having some sense of concern for him. _She did give a shit about him_. "Smoking weed is a completely different story."

Blossom opened her mouth to protest, but Butch and Princess already rose from their seats, heading for the back entrance of the restaurant. She sighed to herself, wishing this night would just get over with already.

"This fucking sucks," Brick muttered.

Blossom nodded, glancing up to meet his crimson eyes. "I know. I would rather be here with _only_ you instead."

Brick grinned at her, leaning forward into the table, "Well, in less than 24 hours, we could do shit like this without a worry in the world."

"We can't exactly do this immediately after the break up because you know…" Blossom trailed off.

He nodded, understanding why they had to, "Right."

"But we will be an official, public couple by the end of February."

"Sounds good to me," Brick beamed.

"Great…" Blossom murmured, not escaping the rediscovered guilt she acquired from her conversation from Buttercup. "I should let you know that Buttercup knows about us having sex."

"So that only leaves Bubbles and Butch now?" Brick quipped.

"It's not funny, Brick."

The smile on Brick's face faded away, replaced by a serious one. "I know it's not, but it's whatever. What is Buttercup going to do? Tell Butch? You really think he's going to believe her?"

"I don't know…" Blossom answered, feeling uneased by his questioning. "They've become pretty close since they've gotten back from Statesville."

"Maybe we're not the only ones having an affair," he suggested in a joking manner.

Blossom's eyebrows shot up, "You think so?"

"I was only joking, Bloss," he replied, chuckling to himself. "If Buttercup and Butch got together, I feel like hell would freeze over."

Blossom stared at him for a good minute, considering his comment. The redhead was too smart to ignore the new connection the dark-haired individuals' have now. It did explain why Buttercup cared about Butch getting hurt. But with Brick bringing up the possibility of them becoming a couple, connected a few dots for Blossom, while also raising one big question mark in her head.

"Yeah… That's probably what would happen if they got together," she frowned.

Brick arched an eyebrow, reaching under the table for her hand and entwining his fingers with hers, "Butch and Buttercup are getting in your head again?"

"They always do."

"If you want me to be frank, fuck what they think," he shrugged. "They don't matter."

"But they do," Blossom argued. "I do care about Butch—it's just not in a romantic way or in the same extent of how I do for you. And Buttercup... she's supposed to be my best friend," she murmured, her voice cracking slightly. "I don't know if I'm willing to lose our friendship."

"This isn't quite the easiest thing to swallow, but it's not necessarily up to you to decide the state of your friendship. But you can make the effort to at least fix things," Brick answered, squeezing her hand lightly in comfort. "In the end though, it depends on two things. You wanting to be friends, and vice versa for Buttercup."

Blossom nodded, smiling weakly at him, "Perhaps... I just... They make me feel so guilty all the time. It's like I'm drowning around them and neither care enough to pull me out from under the water to save me."

"It's not their responsibility to do so. You're the one in control of your guilt. You're the one who needs to swim to the surface," Brick replied. "Obviously you have some lingering feelings about how things have been handled with Butch."

"But what about Buttercup? She shouldn't have this affect on me."

"That's because you're making her keep a secret that is not her's to keep. The fact she is bending over backwards to remain quiet about everything to a degree, despite her own judgement against it, is what is striking the dilemma in you because, deep down, Bloss, you wouldn't do the same for her."

Blossom remained silent, absorbing his words.

His incredibily accurate words.

If Buttercup cheated, Blossom would have definitely told someone else by now. Or she would have done the same as Boomer and threatened her to reveal the truth. It was her superiority complex arising within her in which could make those hypothetical decisions. Blossom knew cheating was wrong and would not want one of her friends to do it but then, look at her. She held a hypocritical judgement towards the topic as she had suppressed it in her mind to making her own logic seem okay with her affair with Brick.

Blossom wanted to think she was a good friend to Buttercup but in actuality, she was the worst. Just as she was with everyone who was not Brick. It was a repeated pattern of her destroying any good relationship around her.

She studied Brick, pursing her lips. "I wish I could be like you. Not caring about any of this."

"I care about you and your feelings, Bloss," he reassured attentively.

Blossom nodded, smiling for a brief second, "I know. But I'm talking about everything else." Her eyes drifted to the empty seat next to him, "Like Princess. You don't even care about using her, don't you?"

"That's the whole reason why we picked her to be my 'girlfriend'," he chuckled.

"What about the fact she has geniune feelings for you?"

"You really care about the treatment of the girl who has harrassed you for three years?" Brick challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"I... I don't know," she mumbled.

A good person would say yes. An even better person would have never suggested Princess as an option to be his fake girlfriend but Blossom could not pretend she had no hand in this ordeal.

Brick softened his expression at the sight of Blossom's confused and saddened face.

"I'm sorry," Brick sighed. "I'm being sort of a dick right now."

"That did not cross my mind," Blossom said quickly but it was the truth.

"It did in mine," he smirked. "It's complicated. We handle things differently. Since I don't care about Princess, or Butch and Buttercup, they don't bother me. It's just how I've always been. But you were raised in an environment to care about every aspect of someone's opinion of you. So obviously Buttercup is going to get under your skin. Butch is going to constantly have some type of effect on you. Princess' emotions will concern you because you will be the very reason for shattering them. It's fine, Bloss. That's you. And you don't want to be a prick like me."

"I like you for how you are, Brick... And I don't think it's fine to be this way," she muttered. "I want to be compassionate but not only because it affects me."

"It's all in your mindset, honey," Brick smiled. "Again, you want to change, it's on you."

"But it does help to have you by my side," Blossom grinned, stroking her thumb against the back of his hand. "Thank you."

"Of course. Anything for you, Bloss."

* * *

"This is awkward for you, isn't it?" Princess asked, leaning against the stone exterior of the restaurant while taking a puff from one of the joints she was sharing with Butch.

"I don't know what you mean," he dismissed, exhaling the smoke that infiltrated his lungs. How he looked—staring down at her, his sharp green eyes beginning to become bloodshot and the smoke surrounding his face—it reminded Princess of a dragon breathing fire.

"Being here with Blossom and Brick, you dummy," she explained. "I thought I warned you about them."

"Morbucks, we both know you only said that to start shit," Butch chuckled darkly, taking a long drag of the joint, coughing a little afterward.

"I did, I did," she grinned sheepishly. "But if you must know, I didn't make it up. I heard it for some chick when I came back… I think her name was _Raven._ "

"The weird goth girl in band?" Butch questioned, his eyebrows furrowed. "How could that be? She doesn't talk to anyone."

Princess shook her head, cackling to herself, "If I'm going to be honest, my mind is so fucked up right now, that I'm having a hard time even remembering my own middle name. So I probably have the person mixed up."

Butch laughed along with her, "Everything is so fucked up, honestly."

"Yeah, with them?" She gestured back at the restaurant, ceasing the laughter between the two. "It's unbearable... You know, we haven't even kissed yet. In fact, Brick barely acknowledges me when I'm around. I'm lucky if he even decides to hold my hand. And I don't even know anything about him other than his name and that he is hot as fuck."

"Why... Why are you even with Brick if you know he's emotionally unavailable?" Butch questioned softly, the mood quickly shifting between the two.

Princess snorted, "Isn't obvious? I'm a fucking fool who's insecure as fuck and desperate for attention—especially from an attractive guy like him."

"Yeah but… damn, I'm sorry…"

"I don't need your pity, Butch," Princess dismissed but Butch could tell from the pain in her dark eyes, he knew she appreciated it. She took another joint out of her purse, lighting the end of it, sighing to herself, "I just… I thought it could be possible I finally can get a good guy without _her_ getting involved but, _again,_ she has to get everything she wants."

"If it helps, Brick isn't a good person," Butch said bitterly, flicking his joint onto the concrete and crushing it with the heel of his shoe. " _At all…"_ He held out his hand towards her, "Can I have another one?"

Princess nodded, placing a joint in between his fingers and holding her lighter to it, "Neither am I. So shouldn't it be a perfect match?"

"Nothing is perfect in this world," Butch dismissed, taking a drag. "As I'm beginning to realize."

"I know why I'm doing this but you… you're too smart for this, Butch."

Butch let out a small, sarcastic laugh at that statement. "You know the saying that ' _love makes you do stupid things'_. Yeah, well, I can't just turn off how I feel about _her_ … I'm going to marry her one day."

"And what if she's cheating on you?" Princess questioned nonchalantly.

Butch glanced down at her, unable to find an answer to defend Blossom.

"She wouldn't do that…" he mumbled.

"Well then," Princess held up her joint, "Here's to being two fucking fools when dealing with love."

Butch tapped his against her's, not believing he was having a bonding moment with Princess Morbucks of all people but, nonetheless, enjoying it thoroughly despite the rough conversation material.

"You know. You could do something about Brick," Butch suggested. "You don't have to be a puppet in his game."

Princess sighed loudly, her gaze falling onto the ground underneath them, "...Is it dumb that I think I can change his mind? That if I spend enough time with him, that I can snap him out of his… _obsession with her_?"

"I…" Butch inhaled deeply, knowing it was better if he told the truth than lie to her. That after one raw conversation, he already cared about Princess. "I don't think he'll change. If he hasn't stopped chasing after her, even with all the attention he gets from all the other girls here, then I don't think it will do anything. It would just be a waste of your time."

She nodded slowly, her red curls beginning to frizz in every direction due to being outside for too long, "Daddy did always say I was too big of a dreamer."

"Hey. There's nothing wrong with having big dreams. It's just trying to separate reality from fantasy, that's what is the difficult shit." Princess turned her neck towards him, narrowing her eyes. Butch raised an eyebrow at her, "What?"

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

Butch smiled softly, not realizing he let out a light chuckle, "I think it's the weed."

"Maybe so," she laughed quietly, grinning to herself. "At least now I have the comfort of knowing your biggest mistake."

"Which is?"

"Turning me down," Princess answered, laughing louder now. Butch could not do anything but join along with her.

"Perhaps, you're onto something."

"Of course, I am," she smirked.

Butch grinned at her, arching an eyebrow, "How come you're not like this all the time?"

"Like what?"

"Bearable? Genuine? Excuse my language, but not a bitch? I don't know," Butch shrugged, scratching the back of his neck.

"Ah," she nodded. "The reason is because being a bitch keeps anyone from hurting me. If I have the power, then no one gets to me... Besides, I have knack for causing chaos. It's quite entertaining."

"You could be better than that, you know?"

"I do," Princess smirked. "I know all my faults, Butch. I'm too loud. I have way too many insecurities. I like being the center of attention. I get fulfillment from material objects. I have let _her_ get under my skin way too many times to count. All of them are who I am. The thing is, I love myself enough to not give shit about censoring myself for anyone. They can think what they want about me but at the end of the day, everyone is going to be envious of me in some type of way."

"Except for when it comes to Blossom and Brick," Butch pointed out, taking a drag from the joint inbetween his fingers.

"And what about you?" She challenged.

"Touché, Morbucks."

Princess nodded, smiling at the dark-haired male next to her, "We both could use a dose of reality more than ever."

"We do."

* * *

Putting his hand on the small of her back as he walked her back to her dorm, Brick repeatedly told himself that he only needed to pretend to be with Princess for a day or two longer. They did not talk very mugh on the way back. Her eyes were still a little pink from smoking with Butch, neither speaking about what transpired when they went outside or what Blossom and Brick discussed when at the table alone.

Brick tried not to breath in too deeply as Princess held a strong odor from her activity at the restaurant. He was just glad they made it to her door after a long walk.

"So…" she breathed, leaning against her door, her head tilted up to meet his eyes. "That was an interesting night."

Brick nodded, placing his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. "Totally was."

Princess frowned at this, "I think… It was nice being out with you, though," she stumbled. Half of her was pissed off from chickening out on saying something about him and Blossom.

"Likewise."

Even though she knew she should not, Princess raised her hand, trailing her hand against his forearm, "Brick…" she leaned forward, attempting to kiss him but he backed away from her. Princess raised her eyebrows at this, slowly nodding her head. Butch was right. _This was a waste of her time_. She could do better. She was Princess Morbucks after all. He should be bowing at her feet instead of treating her as if she had a disease. Nor should she be used in his little game with Blossom. "You know… maybe we shouldn't do this?"

Brick cocked his eyebrow, "Are you breaking up with me?" he questioned, trying to hide the excitement he felt from asking the question.

Princess hesitated for a second before nodding again, "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

"Alright," he said, turning on his heel, happy to not have to pretend anymore. "Have a nice night, Princess," Brick waved as he walked down the hall and leaving the girls' dorm.

Princess watched, knowing this was the best decision for her but could not deny how much it did hurt. This was the dose of reality she needed, awakening her to the world around her. To see how naive she was about Brick. Butch was right once again. _Brick was not a good person_. He was quite a dick, in her opinion, especially by his lack of regard to their breakup.

This also enlightened her hatred for Blossom even more—but it now included Brick too.

Her revenge on the duo was due in time, a fleeing delightful idea in which would be conceived after a night of tending to her broken heart.

* * *

Despite the stressfulness over the Trigonometry test her and Buttercup would take in the next morning, Bubbles' mind was consumed by another self-planned event.

After leaving her dorm room because Princess needed private time by herself—the redhead had just gotten back from her date and seemed to be on the verge of tears, which Bubbles made a mental note to at least buy some chocolate for her roommate to know the blonde cared—Bubbles went to the group's picnic table. Having the table all to herself, Bubbles stared down at her phone.

The number on the screen taunted her, teasing her to get it over with.

Bubbles sighed to herself, wishing she had the courage to carry through with the plan she made for herself. The plan to call her father by the end of the week.

It has been eating away at her as she was curious yet she could not bring herself to do so. Each day, Dexter asks casually if she has called him but she has disappointed him and herself every time.

All she had to do was press the call button. It was not that hard, was it?

Her fingers brushed against her screen, circling around the bright green button. Just one tap and she would be reaching out to the man who helped create her.

Without giving it another thought, Bubbles clicked on her screen. She quickly brought her phone to her ear, listening attentively as it ringed, feeling anxious, excited and terrified all at the same time.

"Hi… My name is Olivia Lopez and I think _you_ _knew my mother._ "

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **First off, I'm so sorry for the hiatus of sorts. I got sidetracked with school and working on my other story, _Falling Star_ , and going through a brief period of lacking motivation for this story because of the difficultly I am having writing chapter 20 (You'll see why), but now I, hopeful, have found a balanced between everything. Anyways, I'm psyched about this story again as the next chapter will be a big momentum change (I wonder what it will be). I would also like to thank everyone for their patience.**

 **Second, shoutout to Swov for taking the time to give a nearly perfect description of each character. You do not know how much it means to me and how much I appreciate it. Thank you!**

 **Third, I want to wish everyone a happy holidays! May they be filled with love, laughter, and good food.**

 **Like always, thank you for reading and please review**!


	19. The Break Up

Mornings at Townsville Academy are a peaceful affair. The students kept a quiet tone throughout the time span before their classes as they were either not fully awake or they did it out of courtesy for others. Only on an unusual occasion would there ever be any loud commotion in the morning—Princess' return or her fight with Ace, for instance, were apart of the few exceptions. For Robin and Mitch, they were not expecting this particular morning to be an example of those singular events.

"Watch where you're fucking going," Mitch shouted half-heartedly after a classmate ran into his shoulder in a hurry.

"Sorry," the speedy classmate addressed over his shoulder, still keeping a fast pace. "I just have to see _the break up_."

Robin's ears perked up. Moving in a brisk motion, she removed her hand from Mitch's hold without an explanation. The brunette then caught up with the classmate, flashing a friendly smile, "Excuse me? Did you say break up?"

"Yeah," he panted. "It's over by the fountain."

"And who would be breaking up?" she questioned, coming out like a sweet whisper. Her eyes sparkled in mischievousness.

"One of the core six—which makes only two options," the classmate answered, standing on his tippy-toes to look over the crowd accumulated around the marble fountain. "My friend hung up on me before saying who. But either way, this is going to be some good shit."

"Oh. I agree," the brunette purred. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing Mitch twenty steps behind them, not putting in any effort to catch up to them quickly. Robin rolled her eyes at the slight annoyance of her boyfriend's nonchalant attitude. However, she met him halfway, wrapping her arm around his', dragging him to the fountain. "We're in for a show this morning."

"What kind of show?"

"The self-incriminating one, I hope," Robin grinned, elbowing her way through the crowd to the front of the circle. She tossed eager eyes at Mitch when getting the knowledge of who exactly was breaking up. It was the perfect situation for her but the brunette knew she had to be patient. Instead, Robin pleasantly listened and watched the chaos transpire in front of her.

"You cannot be serious, Blossom?" Butch questioned loudly. His voice strained with devastation and anger. He stared down at the redhead, his hands drawn into fists out of habit. "After everything we've been through, you're going to do this?"

"Yeah…" she said, her voice barely audible to anyone but Butch and those in the front of the circle that encased them. Her eyes darted around the crowd quickly, her body clamming up from their stares. Blossom could feel her self-criticalness coming out, upset from the unwanted attention. Her mind wondered how this may negatively affect her. As if he was reading her mind, Blossom's soft pink eyes landed on Brick's—who stood calmly in front of the circle—easing her tension and letting those thoughts free. She straightened her body, growing more confidence as she spoke, "I am."

"That's all you have to say? No reasons why? You just go, _hey Butch, it's over_. That's it? What the fuck is that, Blossom?" he ranted, his dark eyebrows furrowing in rage.

"My reason is that I simply do not want to be in a relationship with you anymore," she answered with composure. Her eyes flickered to Brick for reassurance and then back to Butch. "Please don't push it anymore further."

Butch narrowed his eyes at her, wondering why she kept looking away from him. He twisted his head around, seething to himself when he discovered why. "Bullshit," he retorted through his teeth. He could hear the others around them gasp and whisper to those beside them.

"It's not." Blossom raised an eyebrow, speaking silently to Butch. _Don't you dare_.

 _Too fucking bad_. He smirked devilishly, taking a step to the side, letting Blossom have a full view of Brick. Butch glanced back and forth between the two, "Then why don't I go ask—"

As a reflex, in fear of what Butch was going to say in front of everyone, Blossom raised her hand, smacking it across Butch's cheek, silencing him.

In fact, it silenced everyone around them. Only the sound of the impact of Blossom's hand onto Butch's skin rang in their ears.

Blossom's eyes stared shockingly at her hand, lowering it to her side swiftly. She ran a hand through her long orange locks, succumbing to the negative thoughts about herself.

Why did she have a knack for self-sabotage? Why did she have to make every single thing in her life harder for herself? Why did she have to ruin Butch's life in the process?

First, she lied. Cheated. Broke his heart. Now she has humiliated him front of the entire school. Blossom has never felt more displeased with herself.

Butch lightly drew his fingers against his cheek, feeling the intense stinging from her touch. His face dumbfounded by the turn of events, "Did you…did you…"

"I'm sorry," she murmured, her face becoming inflamed from embarrassment. Before Butch could respond, the redhead rushed through the crowd, running off into one of the buildings in the distance.

He stood back, watching as she did this. He also noticed Brick slip through the distressed crowd, following after her without anyone witnessing his disappearance. Butch tightened a fist again, taking a step forward to chase after them. He was going to expose them. He wanted to catch them and figure out what lies they have told him.

Butch wanted to beat the shit out of Brick for being such a shitty friend and—

He felt a boney-hand grip his shoulder, holding him back. Butch snapped his neck around, prepared to tell the person off but quickly changed his attitude when discovering it was Principal Him holding him back. His face expressed a great amount of confusion.

"Mr. Santos," Him said firmly, oozing with authority. "To my office right now."

"But, but, but—"

"Now!" Butch lowered his head, nodding slowly. He attempted to move forward but felt Him's hand on his shoulder once again. The principal spoke in a harsh whisper in his ear, "I'm very disappointed in you."

Butch frowned at his principal, his eyes glancing back to the building Blossom ran into.

" _Me too_."

* * *

There was an expression for when a person was in full rage, they would start to see red. In consideration to the expression, Buttercup has personally experienced three separate occasions where she was so consumed by her anger, she physically started seeing red.

The _first_ time was when a group of elementary school bullies started picking on her brother because he did not behave like them. In that event, she shoved _legos_ up the leader's nose and gave the majority of them wedgies. The principal of the school then decided to she suspend her for two weeks; thanks to her father threatening to sue the school for the "trauma" caused to his son from the school not taking action against the bullying. They all went to get ice cream and watched the latest _Disney_ movie afterward to celebrate the moral victory.

The _second_ time was after she lost her virginity to some senior from the basketball team during her freshman year. It was obvious to everyone but her that he was just using her until they had sex. Once they did, he dropped her and acted like she did not exist until he graduated. Buttercup, later, keyed his car and used her softball bat to smash the windows of the _BMW_ he stupidly brought to the Academy for his final year of high school. He told the administration it was her but Blossom had got in Him's ear and said he was making it up to get money from the school.

The _third_ time, was right _now_.

She was fully prepared to rip out every single strand of hair that laid on Blossom's head.

As she turned the corner—having heard from everyone outside that Blossom ran into the performing arts hall—Buttercup snorted to herself, not surprised to see Brick there, speaking intensely to Blossom at the end of the hallway. _Even better_ , she thought, stomping over to the redheads.

"You have a lot of fucking nerve," she echoed through the empty hall. Brick and Blossom quickly looked up, glancing at each other.

"Well, that's my cue to leave," Brick announced, pushing himself off the locker he was leaning on. Blossom nodded, understanding why he was going—She did not want him to be involved with Buttercup's wrath, as she already knew it was because of her actions towards Butch.

Buttercup sent daggers at him, retorting, "I hope you're fucking happy now," as he passed by her. Brick simply smirked at her, cocking an eyebrow as he moved away from her. Buttercup felt the urge to punch him in the stomach but she resisted. She needed her anger for Blossom. However, Buttercup heavily considered doing such a thing the next time she saw him.

The dark-haired girl stood in front of her redheaded roommate, staring at her like she was a speck of dirt. "You need to talk to Him," she spoke harshly.

"Why?" Blossom questioned without a thought, confused by Buttercup's question.

Buttercup rolled her eyes at Blossom's cluelessness, "Because Butch is probably on the verge of being expelled right now."

Blossom blinked in shock at her as a response. "Wait. What?"

"Yeah," Buttercup nodded furiously. "While you were too busy fucking Brick, Butch has been busting his ass this entire school year trying to raise his grades and staying out of trouble because he's been in danger of expulsion."

"How am I supposed to know that?" Blossom whispered, still in disbelief by the newly revealed information. Her chest swelled up with the heaviest form of guilt from her selfish nature for not knowing or noticing any of the signs, feeling it eat away at her. "He didn't tell me."

"Like you have any room to talk about him keeping secrets." She gave Blossom a side-eye, continuing, "Look, Blossom. You need to go tell Him that the fight wasn't his fault. It was _yours_."

"Okay," the redhead replied calmly after a minute of silence, surprising the dark-haired girl, before taking a step away from Buttercup and towards Prinpical Him's office.

* * *

"And I thought after all the progress you've made this year… After displaying a large amount of growth and taking responsibility for all your actions," Him said sternly in frustration. "Mr. Santos, I expected better from _you_. I even finished your letter of recommendation last night. I felt unequivocally proud of you as I wrote it—"

"Can we just get this over with?" Butch interrupted, muttering to his principal. The handprint of Blossom's slap still a lingering presence on his cheek. His hands tightened on the arms of the chair he sat in. His voice graveled raw from the arguing and emotional distress from the morning. He did not want to be rude to Principal Him but having to hear Him repeatedly say how disappointed he was in Butch, added another level of heartache and heaviness in his chest. "I've already had my heart stomped on and it's only nine in the morning."

Him frowned at Butch, feeling unequipped not to follow through with the deal they made earlier in the year, knowing it had to be done. "Alright…" the principal exhaled loudly, reaching out for the heavily worded paper that laid on the desk. Butch eyed the large lettering at the top of the paper. The title of _'Expulsion Form'_ standing out to him as he swallowed back the tightness he felt in the back of his throat, not believing this was how everything was going to end. This was how he ended things with Blossom. How he ended things with his friends. How he was ending things with Him. This was how everything was going to end at the Academy. He could not wrap his mind around it, and in a few short minutes, it would be history made. "If you must know, this is very hard for me—"

"Excuse me, you can't go in there!"

Principal Him and Butch both looked up to see the door to the office open and Him's secretary calling out from the lobby. Their eyes confused by Blossom entering the office without a care for the authority of the administration.

"Principal Him," Blossom greeted professionally, not even looking in Butch's direction. She sucked in a deep breath, hearing the thunderous beating of her heart in her ears but continued on, "Butch didn't do anything out of conduct. Things simply got a little heated after a disagreement and I… I slapped him. _That's it_. He didn't touch me or anything."

Him glanced at Butch, an eyebrow raised pointedly, "Is this true?" Butch nodded quickly. The principal sighed, crumbling the expulsion form. "Fine. Mr. Santos, you're free to go." Him's eyes darted over to Blossom, gesturing to the chairs in the room, "Ms. Blanchette, please have a seat."

Blossom resisted for a second, watching as Butch left the room. She saw him give her one last glance over his shoulder before closing the door to the office. Slowly, the redhead took a seat in the plastic leather chairs. She wiped her sweaty palms on the fabric of her skirt, inhaling the fruity smell in the room.

In all the four years she has been at the Academy, she had never been in Him's office for any disciplinary reasons. It was for organizing school events or discussing her academics. This fact, and the unknown outcome of her actions, was terrifying to her.

She attempted to ease her troubled mind by focusing on the intense odor of the room Blossom could never figure out exactly was, when it hit her.

In the moment where her mind was a jumbled mess, Blossom widened her eyes at the realized at the mystery.

It was _pomegranates_.

The smell had always been pomegranates.

In her mind, the fruit has always been associated with the Greek myth of _Hades_ and _Persephone_ , where the seeds of a pomegranate were used to keep _Persephone_ in the underworld with _Hades_ but only for six months at a time due to a deal with her mom. _Persephone's_ mother, _Demeter_ was the goddess of agriculture, and during those six months, the farmlands would wilt. It was the Greeks' way of explaining the winter months and the fruitless season that came with it.

Her humanities teacher the year before, used it as a cautionary tale of toxic love to her students and, generally, her classmates agreed.

Blossom, however, did not.

She found the story to be sort of romantic in a sense. How _Hades_ was willing to do anything to have _Persephone_ and treated her kindly with much tender love. Her teacher even neglected to explain how _Persephone_ fell in love with _Hades_ after spending more time with him. It was like her teacher wanted to keep _Hades_ painted as a villain. That he was not deserving of love because he made a questionable and selfish decision.

It was unfair in her mind, and in a sense, she sympathized with _Hades_ as he was made out to be something he was not. But now she could not help seeing the parallels from the myth to her life. Brick was _Hades_ and she was _Persephone_. He was dragging her into chaos but she did not care because she got to be with him. He was not a good person and never would be by choice, because being good was never acessable for him, and Blossom could not escape from falling more and more for him.

They were two terrible people on the brink of falling in love; one who accepted their moral-less decisions without a single care, and the other wanting to escape their parent(s) influence but kept digging a deeper hole into destruction and chaos. But as long as they had each other, nothing else mattered in the world.

Blossom liked to think that was how _Hades_ and _Persephone_ were. She hoped she was correct for finding them romantic. That their twisted romance was a good and genuine one, and not a _curse_ or _cautionary_ tale that her teacher presented it to be.

Coughing subtlety, Him drew Blossom out of her thoughts, her pink eyes staring intensely at her principal, preparing for the worst.

"I don't know what to do, Ms. Blanchette," Him confessed, tossing those claw-like hands in the air. "Putting your hands on another student is inexcusable."

"Yes," she nodded, sounding robotic. "I know."

"Well, I'm sure you know you'll have to deal with the consequences."

"Yes, and I'll be willing to do anything," Blossom answered. It felt like her mouth was on autopilot. What she was saying was not really her.

"Great... Let's see. You will be..." Him glanced at a sticky note, reading off from it. "You'll be helping Professor Utonium clean out the basement of the science lab."

Blossom blinked back, snapping out of the dazed state she had been in for practically the entire morning. "The science lab?" she gulped. "Isn't that haunted?"

Him shrugged at her question, "It's possible, but I don't believe in that whole supernatural nonsense." The principal met her eyes, making sure she knew this was serious. "You will need to be there at three P.M. sharp every afternoon this week. Got it?"

Blossom nodded, her body becoming stiff at the realization she was now serving out a punishment. Her perfect record of never receiving a detention, a stern talking to, or _even_ a warning was now down the drain. As she was trying to let go of her perfect sense of herself, Blossom could not stop from mourning the loss. From feeling the pain, regret, and taunting inside of her from it no longer being apart of her.

"Got it."

"Great," Him nodded before turning to a pile of paperwork on the desk in between them.

Blossom took it as a sign of dismissal. She silently exited the office. Her mind resuming to the muddled mess it was, pounding heavily against her skull. If she could, Blossom would redo the events of the morning—no, the entire school year. She would like to have a do-over, allowing herself to have broke up with Butch the moment she felt a connection with Brick.

It would have spared her from the terrible decision-making, sticky situation caused by it, the heartbreak, and, now, a headache.

On the bright side—if there was to be any—Blossom did not have to commit a walk of shame from the principal's office with any of her classmates' judgemental stares. It gave her a chance to catch her breath before meeting up with Brick to continue the conversation they were having before Buttercup interrupted them.

Blossom was glad to have a peaceful moment to herself. She wished it could last for longer than the class period provided. She wanted—

"What happened in there?"

Blossom froze.

Her mind went blank immediately at the sound of his voice.

She refused to look up at him. His pair of white and green _Adidas_ sneakers contrasting with the floor tile of the hallway.

He must have waited for her.

Blossom could feel her skin begin to crawl from claustrophobia. She was trapped. She could not ignore him.

No. Not after what happened.

It was the bare minimum she could do for him.

"...Him provided me with the proper punishment for my actions," she answered. Her voice shaking as her skin felt like wildfire. The need to scratch away the boiling heat arose throughout her entire body.

"Are... Are you getting expelled?"

"No... Him would never do that." Blossom exhaled deeply before speaking again. An attempt to calm herself down from the aderaline coarsing through her veins since the morning. "He needs my money and grades."

"Yeah." She heard him chuckle. Blossom had no clue on how he could find humor in any of this—especially with what she had caused. "But um... Can we... Can we talk?"

Blossom snapped her eyes up to meet his after hearing his question. His face strangely mixed with hopefulness and heartbreak. She could not believe such a combination could exist but he stared at her with those exact emotions.

It made her answer ten times harder to deliver.

"No."

"Why–Why not?" He stuttered in shock. His entire expression becoming heavy-hearted in an instant.

His eyes appeared like broken glass as they bore into her soul.

It was the sublte reminder she was ripping his heart out and stomping on it with even more vigor than in the courtyard. This intimate and quiet conversation was more powerful than their actual breakup.

This was the true ending to their relationship.

It brought a melancholic emotion out of her. This was the boy who taught her what unconditional love was. She nearly spent two years with him. Blossom could not deny the part of her that would always love him. He would always have a special place in her heart.

The unfortunate part for him was, her heart was with someone else now. Someone who brought out thoughts and feelings Blossom had never experienced before nor could explain. A person who saw the real her and did not become disgusted or cower away from her; but instead, stood by her, encouraged her, and sobered her to the change she could make from the false lifestyle she was living out for her parents and their love of perfection. They knew her flaws and past, yet still wanted her with all their might.

Blossom had always secretly feared he could never do the same. He fell in love with the plastic version of her. The person she was trying to be to please everyone. She did not believe he could be capable of loving the person she was now. They were vastly different than they were two years ago. They each were striving for affection somewhere due to never receiving any from their parents.

Since then, they have both grown up in a way. He was first, eclipsing her in self-actualization. By doing so, he made it obvious the differences between him and her. He did not care about hollow acclaim anymore. He learned to forgive himself for his past mistakes. He improved himself with, what appeared to be, ease.

While she was still consumed by other's thoughts towards her and her need to be the best. Blossom did not make any change to her old ways until a few months ago. Not until her life was shook up by the arrival of a new student to the Academy.

He made it apparent how much of a better person he was compared to her. Deep down, Blossom knew she was never deserving of his affections. In a way, it made or caused her to resent him in away, creating a wedge between them even at the beginning of their relationship. Perhaps, it was why she never got _too_ close with him. She was too afraid to fall in too deep with him because he would not like who she truly was and then would take away his love.

The love she had never experienced and depended on until she did not want it anymore.

She was selfish and greedy. He was not.

Blossom did not want to be selfish anymore. Therefore, she knew it was best she did not answer his question because if she said the wrong thing or continue to discuss their deceased relationship, it could give him some type of false hope.

"You should get to class, Butch," she murmured, not give him a single glance as she walked past him.

* * *

"So..." Brick whispered, flicking on the light in the janitor's closet. Blossom had her back against the wall, biting down on her bottom lip; while Brick was towering over her. His crimson eyes stared intensely down at her. "Are you okay?"

"I…" She stared down at the pair of pink flats adorned to her feet. "I don't know…"

Brick lifted a hand, resting it on her check, "Just as things start to clear up, your mind becomes a beautiful mess again."

Blossom nodded solemnly. She glanced back up at him, taking note to the tenderness his face read of. Why was he so good to her? He should be running for the hills. If he had not seen all the red flags she must have given off by now, Blossom was dead-set on her actions in the morning would have been what scared him away finally.

Perhaps, he was not _Hades_. He was _Persephone_ , falling deeper into the hell that was her life, out of... well, Blossom was not sure what to label the emotion he held for her yet. Nor at the moment did she feel deserving of whatever it was.

Like Butch, Blossom did not feel like she deserved to have Brick's affections. She has put him through the ringer for the bettermost of the school year and gave him nothing in return except for dealing with all her issues.

He should not want her. She was never going to be good enough for him.

Blossom knew she would never be good enough for anyone.

"Brick," she murmured. Her petite hand laying on top of his that held her cheek. She slowly removed it, bring their hands down to their sides. Their fingers barely held on to each others' still. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Of course it is," Brick replied firmly in a quiet tone. "I wanted this since the night we worked on Keane's project together." He paused, taking in a sharp breath. His fingers retreated from her's as he took off his hat to run a hand through his hair. "But... Is this what you want?"

"I... It doesn't matter," she dismissed.

"Yes, it does."

"No, it doesn't," Blossom argued. "You're too good for me. I'm a wreck. I don't know who I am, what I want, nor do I feel any closer to finding that out. I lied for my entire life and I just broke the heart of the single person who only wanted to give me the world. You shouldn't want to be with me, Brick... And I shouldn't let you."

"You're getting in your head again," he mumbled. Blossom watched as he placed his hat back on his head, deep in thought. His eyes snapped up to her when his mind seemed to have found a response. "You want to know who you are, Blossom? You're Rosemarie Blanchette. Your parents were abusive assholes who never knew how to love or even raise a child, which fucked you up but that is not your fault. Neither is your deep-seated issues of needing to impress or the fear no one will want you..."

Brick paused. His eyes reflecting the pain similar to Butch's but this time, Blossom felt her whole body cave in on itself for causing this type of emotion to him. A fact that deeply reasonated within her but she remained mum on it.

"No. None of that is your fault in my book because it is all produced by your shitty parents. _What is your fault_ , is thinking you should have everything figured out. No one does. Literally at all. And you shouldn't be seeing things in such a black and white view. Sure, you lie. So? Everyone does. As long as your truthful when it matters to people who matter to you, then you shouldn't punish yourself so critically–And what? You cheated. Yeah, so does one-third of the population. Besides, you're not the only guilty party here. I slept with my friend's girlfriend."

"But you don't care," she whispered.

"You're right," Brick shrugged. "I don't care. Which proves to me, you have a better sense of morals than I do. But it also adds to why I don't believe I'm too good for you. Honestly, I'm just as fucked up as you, Blossom. I just... I'm better at hiding it," he breathed.

Blossom wanted to reach out and hug him. She wanted to ask what he was implying, having an idea it was about his dad. But she remained still, listening attentively as he continued.

"But that's besides the point. The point is, you're Rosemarie Blanchette. You're a girl with a terrible childhood who has made plenty of mistakes as the next person, but at least, you recognize it and want to make a change. It wouldn't be today. It wouldn't be tomorrow. But in time, you will be the person who will make yourself proud to be, doing what you love and surrounding yourself with those who you love and who love you just as equally in return."

Blossom stood silently. His words cutting through her mind like a surgeon's knife.

She opened her mouth to speak but he beat her to it.

"But Blossom," he said sorrowfully. His eyes grew a dull shade of deep red. "If I'm not what you want, then tell me. Last thing I want to do is take advantage of you when you're confused. You're going through a lot of serious shit and I understand it would fuck with your frame of mind..."

Blossom could feel her answer slowly creep up her throat. All she had to say was, _yes, she wanted him more than she could possibly fathom._

It did not come out. The unspoken sentence hung in the tense air between them.

"You deserve better than me," Blossom said quietly after a solid minute of silence flew by them. She attempted to fight the lump beginning to form in the back of her throat.

Brick shook his head, "I don't deserve shit. No one deserves shit. That's just a lame excuse to comfort people."

"I—"

"Blossom, I…" He paused, his eyes lingering on her for a few moments before tossing them over to the door. "I think you should give yourself some time to think it over. A week, a month... I don't know. You have a lot to figure out and I don't want to be another burden on you. So just... let me know when you've thought it over completely."

Brick did not wait for Blossom's response as he exited the closet. She did not watch him leave either. Instead, she sunk to the dirty ground, covering her face as tears pricked the corners of her eyes, angry with herself and her habit of pushing away the things that make her happy. From her incapable of making the right decisions for herself.

* * *

"No offense, but why the fuck are we in the library?" Butch questioned to Buttercup, glancing around the three-story building. It was the middle of the school day, and he should be in his psychology class but Buttercup convinced him otherwise, dragging him here without any details.

Buttercup chuckled to herself, walking forward and motioning for him to follow, "I may have pulled some strings with Dexter and…" she trailed off, entering the media room where six rows of plush red chairs sat in front of a projection screen. Butch raised an eyebrow at the title displaying on the screen.

' _The Boogieman_ '.

Buttercup smiled softly at his dumbfounded face, taking a seat in the middle of the rows, patting down on the chair next to her, "I heard this is one of your favorites."

"Yeah," he breathed, astonished she did this for him. It made him see how much Buttercup did care about him. Butch cleared his throat, taking a seat next to her, "It is."

"Great—"

"How did you get Dexter to do this?" He asked. "Did you threaten him or something?"

"Nope," she smirked. "We're sorta on good terms, so I cashed in a favor."

"For me?"

Buttercup felt her pulse tighten as she nodded. She tried not to display any signs of the unknown anxiousness she held inside of her at the moment. "Yeah. I did…" She kept a steady eye on the screen in front of them, "Movies have always been an escape for me when things got too heavy…" Buttercup trailed off. The two have been dancing around the subject since they met up to walk to the library. She could feel the misery radiating off from him and the aching in his voice was still prevalent. It saddened her to see him in so much agony. She knew there was not much she could do to help him with his heartbreak. All she could do was be a good and supportive friend to him. "So I figured it would help."

Butch smiled weakly at her. His sorrow prevented him from displaying the lopsided grin he usually sported. The grin Buttercup has gotten accustomed to seeing around her and gained a secret sense of fondness for. "Thank you, B… I really appreciate it."

"No problem, Butch."

For the next two hours, Butch was able to get his mind off of everything. His parents. His near expulsion and Him's disappointment. Brick's pretty much-confirmed betrayal. Blossom and their break up. Their short and puzzling conversation in hallway.

He was able to enjoy himself, thanks to a classic piece of 70's cinema containing high quality special effects and a good amount of psychological horror.

On the other end, Buttercup could not focus on the film. She was lost in thought on how close her and Butch were getting. How she was skipping three classes to temporarily cheer him up without a second thought to it; making her wonder why did it make her heart-flutter at the fact. How she could not ignore the jolt of electricity she felt from their arms bushing up against each other on the armrest they had to share. The warmth from his arm consuming every inch of her body from head to toe.

She has grown even more confused by their friendship with each passing day. The only knowledge she has attained, was she liked being around him and she very much was fond of the person she was when in his presence.

* * *

Placing old, faded textbooks in a cardboard box, Blossom blinked back the irritation she felt in her eyes. She scrunched up her nose to resist the urge to sneeze for the nth time. Practically everything in the basement of the science lab was covered in thick layers of dust, having not been touched in what seemed like decades. They were basically ancient artifacts by now.

Blossom's nose began to itch again, sneezing repeatedly to relieve herself from the dust. After six sneezes in a row, the redhead was cursing Him in her head for the choice of punishment.

"Would you look at that," Professor Utonium exclaimed from the other corner of the room, rushing over to Blossom with glassware in his hands. "I found a box full of beakers. No damage or anything. Isn't that amazing—" He paused, taking in the puffiness in Blossom's face as she half-smiled at her teacher with amusement. The professor put the glasses down, motioning over to the table in the room, "Perhaps we should take a break?"

Blossom eagerly nodded, walking with him to the table. When they first entered the basement, Professor Utonium had placed his lunch box on the table, which was what he instantly went for when they sat down. He pulled out sanitizing wipes, giving one to Blossom. They cleansed their hands, leaving the crumpled up wipes on the table as Professor Utonium took out a sandwich from his lunch box. He broke the sandwich apart, handing Blossom the other half. She smiled meekly, taking the offer despite not having felt a single sense of hunger the entire day.

She watched as her teacher took a big bite out of the sandwich—which was a BLT with asiago cheese—and spoke to her with food in his mouth, "So what got you in trouble, Rosemarie?"

Blossom raised an eyebrow, picking out a tomato in the sandwich and popping it in her mouth. After chewing, she responded, "How do you know I was in trouble?"

"Students don't usually volunteer for this type of work," the professor grinned. "Even if they're students like you."

"Right…" Blossom sighed, hiding her eyes behind her bangs, "Um… my boyfriend and I broke up this morning and… I'll just say things got out of hand," she revealed, not understanding why she was telling her teacher about this. It was strange and uncomfortable but maybe it was because her whole day had been like that. So what was one more occasion of discomfort going to do?

At least there was a minimum chance she would cause any damage to the Professor and his optimistic nature.

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear about that," he sympathized. Blossom could tell he meant it because Professor Utonium was not the type of person to fake any type of emotion.

"It's fine… it was all my fault anyway," she trailed off, ripping off a piece of lettuce and chewing slowly on it.

"I'll make a note to keep you and Brick separated in class from now on."

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows, swallowing. Her stomach briefly dropped at the mention of Brick's name. "Why would you do that?"

"He is, or _was_ , your boyfriend, am I correct?" Professor Utonium questioned.

"No," Blossom shook her head. "He wasn't."

The professor leaned back in his chair, slightly baffled by his misinterpretation, "Huh."

"Why… why would you think that?" Blossom asked out of curiosity.

Her teacher stared at her for a good minute before sighing to himself and leaning forward into the table, "I don't know if you and your classmates are aware of this but Ms. Keane and I sorta dated a few years back."

"I think I've heard a rumor about that," she said softly, confused to why he changed the subject matter. "What—"

"It will make sense once I'm finished," he reassured, picking up with his story. "Karen and I—er, I mean, Ms. Keane and I—we had something special. As a man of science, I don't believe in destiny or soulmates but I do know that she'll always have a special place in my heart."

"So what happened?" Blossom questioned after the professor grew quiet for a moment. He smirked at her for pulling him out of the trance he was under from his melancholic memories, continuing.

"It was the wrong time for us. I had just came out of a long-term relationship with Ms. Bellum—"

"Ms. Bellum?" Blossom gasped, not meaning to interrupt her teacher. "Our vice principal?"

"Yes," the professor chuckled. "We went to Yale together. I was two years her senior and we were only friends then. It wasn't until I came to find work here, did anything develop. I thought I was in love with her," he paused, clearing his throat. "That is until I met Ms. Keane and I knew I was terribly wrong."

"You cheated?" Blossom whispered in disbelief. Professor Utonium did not seem like the type of person to do something like that. But then again, Blossom did not think she would be the type of person to cheat either.

"No… Well, physically, no. Emotionally, yes," he clarified. "I just knew I enjoyed being around Ms.—"

"You can say Karen."

"Alright," the professor nodded, lightly chuckling. "I knew I enjoyed being around Karen more. And after two months of trying to convince myself otherwise, Ms. Bellum—or shall I say Sara—figured out what was going on and ended things between us," he revealed. "Even though I shouldn't have been—I was finally getting what I wanted; to be with Karen—I was devastated. I kept asking Karen for more time to sort things out because I was overthinking everything but I neglected to realized how she must felt. How I was constantly keeping her on a thread."

"I see…" Blossom murmured, digesting the fact she was doing the same to Brick, feeling her stomach churn at the unpleasantness of it.

Professor Utonium smiled softly at her understanding, finishing his story, "By the time I was ready, Karen had already moved on—and I don't blame her one bit. She needed to be with someone who would be sure about her no matter what situation they were in."

"Are they still together?"

"Who?"

"Ms. Keane and whoever she moved on with?"

The professor nodded, "They're getting married this summer."

"I'm sorry," Blossom whispered.

"It's fine, Rosemarie. It's happened a long time ago."

Blossom shifted in her seat, staring down at the sandwich in her hand, "Are you going to attend?"

"I would like to but I probably will not."

"Why not?"

"It's… it's complicated," he frowned for a brief second before masking over it with a smile. "But alas, that's not the point on why I'm bringing up my past with one of your teachers. I told you this because I think it relates to your situation… does it?"

Blossom nodded, "Yeah. It does."

The professor stared into her eyes like a laser. For the first time since she has known him, Blossom was intimidated by him. "Word of advice. If Brick is Karen in this situation, you need to figure out if you're truly sure about him. If he's really what you want… if I would have done the same, it's possible that… _you get_ what I'm saying."

What he was saying, meant Blossom needed to be one hundred percent sure about Brick. She already knew the answer to the question. He was exactly what she wanted.

All Blossom had to do was tell him. She needed to stop punishing herself from being happy. Furthermore, she needed to stop creating a conflict that Brick confirmed was non-existent between them.

The only true issue Blossom felt she should be punished for was everything she has done to Butch in the past few months but the redhead did not want to overstuff her head anymore with 'what ifs'. Nor did she want to prolong her thoughts about Butch for his own sake. If she kept thinking about him, there was a chance she would contact him in a moment of weakest. Instead, Blossom had to keep her distance from him. To allow Butch to heal and forget about her.

To find someone who would appreciate and love him like she should have. Someone who would not be afraid to be their true self around him.

In the meantime, Blossom had to stop doubting and punishing herself. It was time for her to be truly happy for once.

"Yes. I do."

"Great... This may come across a bit creepy but I have seen the way he looks at you during class," the professor confessed. "It's hard not to interpret it as anything but love."

Blossom raised her eyebrows, her heart skipping a beat, "You think…"

"Do I think he loves you? Oh yes. Definitely. He may not be aware of it yet but yes. He does. That's why I assumed you were an item."

"I…" Blossom could not formulate any words. She was only able to smile with giddiness.

"What I'm simply saying is for you to listen to your heart. Your head can get cloudy sometimes and most of the best decisions we can make in life, don't need a second thought."

Blossom nodded, her smile never fleeing from her face. "Thanks… I needed that."

"No problem, Rosemarie," he smiled. The professor zipped up his lunch box, grabbing the used wipes from the table. "Now let's get back to fixing this place up."

* * *

In the entire world, there was one single thing Dexter could not live without. That item was _caffeine_. The redhead could not function probably if he did not have a drop of it in his body.

It was caffeine that has helped him through heavy studying sessions. Helped him pass exams that seemed even impossible to him.

He simply could not live without it. Dexter knew it was a bad habit since it was technically a drug and he was _definitely_ addicted but it never stopped him from going to a café off campus to get a large cup of Americano and a box full of lemon tarts—another mild addiction of his'.

As he paid for his order, the redhead glanced around the restaurant, taking in the Parisian aesthetic of the place. He froze, his eyes landing on a lonely face and a head full of blonde curls. When he received his coffee and pastries, Dexter swiftly walked over to the booth in the back of the café.

"Bubbles?"

The blonde glanced up from her empty teacup, smiling weakly at the redhead, "Hi Dexter."

Without even asking, Dexter took a seat across from her, his face expressing concern, "Why are you here?"

"I needed some tea for my throat," she explained quietly. "Rehearsals for the musical are killing it."

Dexter shook his head, "That's not what I meant. I'm asking why you are here alone?" He paused, frowning slightly, "Where's Boomer?"

"He's at swim practice… Besides, I needed to clear my head."

"Oh." He stood up, "I'm sorry for intruding."

"No, no," Bubbles reassured, motioning for him to sit back down. He did so as she sighed, lowering her head, "You're fine, Dex… I shouldn't be sulking like this anyways."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Bubbles lifted her head, raising both of her eyebrows. She never realized how much of an impact she made on Dexter since their partnership for Keane's class until just recently. The redhead was a completely different person from the individual he was the first three years of high school. No longer did he have an elitist or detached attitude, but has became more equipped with empathy and kindness. It made Bubbles incredibly proud of Dexter for making a change for himself.

"It's nothing… it's just that I reached out to my dad last night and… I haven't heard from him yet," she revealed, feeling a weight lifted off her shoulders for finally being able to tell someone.

No one but Dexter knew about Bubbles having a way to contact her father. The blonde desperately wanted to tell Boomer but every time she was about to, she changed the subject. Bubbles did not know why she kept doing this—or why she had a strange feeling of embarrassment towards the subject—but it did not stop her from behaving that way towards her boyfriend.

"You called him?" he asked, cringing to himself as she literally just said she did. Why did he have to be so socially awkward?

"Yeah," Bubbles nodded, not noticing his grimace. "I even left a voicemail but I've gotten nothing in return."

Dexter pursed his lips in thought, rubbing his chin. "I don't want to dismiss you or anything but it has _only_ been a day. Maybe he's busy," he suggested. "You know, with real estate stuff?"

Bubbles furrowed her eyebrows for a second before smiling brightly, "I didn't think about that."

Dexter gave her nod, standing up again and grabbing his stuff, "Chin up, Bubbles. Once he gets to know you, this will be a thing of the past."

"Thanks, Dexter," the blonde grinned. "I really appreciate it."

Dexter smiled meekly, his entire body growing in heat, "Of course. Anything for _you_."

* * *

Silence.

That was what it has been in Butch and Brick's dorm room since before they went on a double date the night before. It was a deafening silence, speaking louder than words could.

Butch saying, _I pretty sure I know what you have done and I fucking hate you for it._

Brick's response being, _I do not care._

That was also added by the dirty looks Butch kept giving Brick since he returned to the dorm from soccer practice. Brick remained unbothered, headphones in while watching highlights from the _AFC Championship_ game on his laptop. He leaned back into his desk chair, impressed by a wide receiver catching a 65-yard pass for a touchdown. Rewinding the video, Brick grabbed a notepad writing down how he interpreted the play, planning on practicing the similar route and technique. As he did this, the redhead heard Butch groan to himself but did not give any attention to it.

Butch narrowed his eyes at the redhead, pissed he even had to speak to him but the dark-haired needed to do his homework and he had left his only pen in one of his classes earlier that day.

"Can I have a pen?" He asked roughly.

Brick continued writing on his notepad, turning up the volume on his headphones to pretend he did not hear Butch's question.

Butch took notice to this action, knowing well enough Brick had heard him. He tightened his jaw out of frustration, raising to his feet and staggering his way to Brick's space to yank out one of his headphones.

"Can I have a pen?" Butch repeated through his teeth.

Brick furrowed his eyebrows at his roommate, moving the chair back and standing up, "Don't touch my fucking stuff, Butch."

Butch snorted to himself, pushing into Brick's shoulder, his voice full of venom, "I can say the same for you."

"You're ridiculous." Brick rolled his eyes, smoothing out his shirt from Butch's push. He wanted to punch the dark-haired male in the jaw but held back from being violent. Brick did not think it would be worth anything to do so.

"Do you enjoy stealing everything from me?" Butch asked darkly. "You're totally a _single, white female_."

Brick's face contorted with confusion, "I'm what?"

"It's a movie reference but whatever," he dismissed, jabbing into Brick's chest. "You're a fucking leech."

"Is this about football?" Brick smirked, amused by how deeply he has gotten under Butch's skin. "Because that was ages ago and you played like fucking shit. Or maybe this is about how everyone likes me better? Perhaps, it's about Blossom?"

"Of fucking course, it's about Blossom," Butch seethed, holding back from wanting to beat the shit out of Brick and the grin his face held. "You've been trying to steal her all school year."

"There's a difference between stealing and willingly wanting an escape," he responded smugly. There was a strange sense of calmness in his voice that raised the hairs along Butch's spine.

The green-eyed male's face becoming vacant, "What… What is that supposed to mean?" he fumbled, feeling another knife swiftly sink into his already punctured heart. From what Brick was suggesting, Blossom cheated on him. This whole time, Butch had dismissed the thought, only believing Blossom may have developed feelings for Brick. _That was it_. But hearing it could have happened, summoned an even darker cloud over Butch's head. "Did you… Did she…"

Brick inhaled sharply, shaking his head. He was not going to confirm anything because it would only cause more trouble for Blossom. "Nothing has happened, Butch. We just like each other."

"So what?" His wrath returning at the confirmation that Blossom _did_ develop feelings for Brick while in a relationship with him. Along with the understanding his redheaded roommate was the exact reason why he was single now. "You're going to be her fucking boyfriend now? Her rebound? My sloppy seconds?"

"First of all, that is none of your fucking business. Second, don't talk about Blossom like that," the redhead responded in disgust at Butch's attitude towards Blossom and their relationship. He turned his back towards his roommate heading for the door. "I have had enough of this shit," he said before opening and closing the door firmly behind him.

Brick decided to go on a walk around campus to ease his tensions from the day. Perhaps he would head to the football field and do a few drills. That always calmed him down.

As he exited his residence hall, Brick received a text message. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, reading the notification on his screen.

It was from Blossom.

 _"Can we talk?"_

Brick stared at the message, unsure on what to reply. It was too soon for Blossom to have an answer already in his opinion, given the state she was in earlier in the day.

However, he could not stop himself from sending out a response.

 ** _"Place?"  
_**

 _"Nora's diner? I'll be there in thirty."_

He hesitated on sending his one-worded reply. He was conflicted on pondering over what this could mean. If this was the true beginning between him and Blossom or, possibly, the end.

Brick inhaled sharply, knowing there was only one way to find out. His finger pressed on the send button.

 ** _"Okay."_**

* * *

"Butch?" Buttercup questioned in surprise when opening the door to her dorm. She quickly closed the door behind her, entering the hallway with him since Blossom was in the room doing her hair. She raised an eyebrow at him, not sure why he arrived unexpectedly but was not unpleased by it. "Hey. What's up—"

"Did you know anything?" He asked firmly, staring down the hallway, not making eye contact with the dark-haired girl in front of him. He tapped his foot rapidly, waiting impatiently for an answer— _or_ preparing himself for finally hearing the truth.

"Know what?" She blinked in confusion but deep down, knew what he was truly asking about. Buttercup folded her arms over her chest, feeling uneasy.

"If… if Blossom and Brick… do you know anything about them?"

"I…" Buttercup sighed to herself. She could not let him know the full truth. It would destroy him and his progress. It would also damage her already fractured friendship with Blossom—but that was the least of her worries. Butch was the only thing she was concerned about lately, and she could not go on with him being completely oblivious. So she told him about a secret she promised to keep a few months ago. "She told me that she liked him during the Battle of the Sexes weekend but she was going to suppress those feelings."

"And that's all she told you?" He asked, finally looking at her. His forest green eyes desperately searched hers' for the truth.

She nodded, glancing to the ground because his stare was becoming too much for her, "...Yeah. That's it."

Butch nodded, running his hand through his thick curls, comprehending the revelation. He had been under the impression that Blossom was solely his, when in reality, she was having thoughts about another guy for months now. He could feel his heart literally getting crushed at the fact, tearing him apart.

He wanted to punch the wall.

He always did so back at home when dealing with this much frustration but he could not. One, because of property damage. And two, because he was not that person anymore. He had control over his anger now and allowing himself to do that would mean he did not.

However, Butch could feel him slowly losing himself ever since he gotten back to the Academy. The school was bringing out the worst in him.

"I fucking hate it here," he grumbled. "Maybe it was better if I had let Him expelled me."

Buttercup immediately looked back up at him, shaking her head, "Don't you dare say that. If you got expelled, I didn't know what I would—I mean, you can't let this whole thing with Blossom destroy your future," she explained, catching herself from saying anything she would regret later. "She's just a girl that you'll probably forget about in _ten years._ "

"I wouldn't ever forget about her, Buttercup," Butch replied, his voice cracking from the raw amount of emotions he felt. "I love her… Fuck. I _still_ want to marry her despite what has happened."

"I…" she exhaled deeply, ignoring the sting in her chest. "As much as I want to, I can't help you with that."

"I know…" he muttered. "I know you can't, but thanks for being a good friend, B…"

"Of course." Buttercup forced a smile, feeling extremely guilty for not telling him the full truth. She wished it was simple enough for her to do so.

Butch chuckled to himself, realizing something. "You know, you're the only one to check up on my well-being today. Like Boomer and Bubbles did through text because they were busy… but _you._ You actually tried to cheer me up. And I just want to say _thank you_."

"It's… It's not a big deal," she murmured, heat rising in her cheeks.

"Don't downplay it," Butch replied. "Not everyone cares enough like you do…" He paused, looking her up and down, realizing how much he actually cares about her. That after one month, Butch could not fantasize about not having Buttercup in his life. She has now become a very important and permeant figure to him. "This may sound a little bit crazy but I think you're my best friend now." He nodded to himself, growing more confident with what he was saying now that he stated it out loud. "Yeah. _You are my best friend_."

Buttercup blinked at him in shock, biting the inside of her cheek, unable to find a response.

She wondered if Blossom was listening in on their conversation—Probably not since the redhead was always in her own world. It was strange to hear someone other than Blossom claiming that she was their best friend.

Buttercup thought it would feel unnatural. Artificial almost.

It did not. It felt right when Butch said it. And now that she thought about it, it felt more forced when she or Blossom said they were best friends.

Best friends do not talk shit about each other. They do not go behind each other's back to get at each other. They should not bring out the worst qualities within themselves. They do not maliciously attack each other to get what they want. They did not force the other to be a bad person by keeping a secret that could destroy the one person they cared about.

They were not best friends. It was just a facade like Blossom's entire image. Just a label stamped on and neither cared to question it until everything began to unravel between them.

Buttercup could now see who her real friends were. Bubbles, Boomer, and most importantly, _Butch_.

"... I think you're mine too," she smirked.

Butch grinned widely at her, shifting his weight and nodding over to the elevators. "Well then, now that we established that, do you want to get out of here? Go watch another movie or something to celebrate?"

Buttercup nodded, smiling from ear-to-ear, "Yeah. That would be nice."

* * *

As the door chimed above her, Blossom stepped into the diner. Memories from the last two times she had been there flooded her mind—one night with Brick, the other with Butch. The neon lighting above the booths were a different color this time around—they were previously a cool blue but now were a soft pink. Her eyes danced around the restaurant until they landed on an individual with a red hat, his back facing her.

Blossom walked towards the booth, her heels clicking on the tile flooring of the diner. She slid into the vinyl booth, smiling softly at Brick, who sat across from her. Her eyes then darted to the items on the table, raising her eyebrow.

"You ordered dessert?"

Brick nodded, taking in a fork-full of the devil's food cake that sat on the table in front of him. He pushed a plate of strawberry shortcake an inch closer to her, letting Blossom know it was her's.

"You know I don't do desserts," Blossom said but her eyes lingered on the glossy strawberry glaze, powdered sugar, and whipped cream.

Brick chuckled to himself, swallowing and putting his fork down, "Last time I got strawberry shortcake for dinner, you practically ate the whole thing off my tray."

"That's because I was stress eating for our government exam," she argued. "And I wholeheartedly regret that decision."

"Did you _really_?" Brick smirked, letting her know he was not believing a word she was saying.

"Um…"

"Just enjoy the shortcake, Blossom," he directed lightly, picking up his fork again and eating more of his cake. Blossom sunk her shoulders, giving into the sugary temptation. Once the strawberries and pound cake touched her tongue, she let the sweet taste overtake her.

"Good?" Brick asked, amused by her face.

Blossom nodded, taking another bite. " _So good_."

"I'm glad…" he trailed off, waiting for the right moment to question why they were there—well, he knew; Brick just needed to know under what circumstances it was for. Once they both finished their separate desserts, put in and received an order of black coffee for him and herbal tea for her, Brick chose to finally approach the daunting discussion between the two. He leaned forward into the table, an eyebrow cocked and his hands wrapped around the warm cup of coffee, he spoke, "So…"

"So…" she smiled bashfully, stirring honey into her tea. "I had a very interesting conversation with Professor Utonium today."

Brick narrowed his eyes for a second, unsure on why she brought this up but lightened his expression, "Was it about the test we had on Friday? Because I totally aced that shit."

"No," Blossom chuckled to herself. She finished stirring her tea, putting her spoon on the table and taking a sip of the hot liquid, letting it soothing her throat. The redhead grinned at the boy in front of her, placing the teacup on the table, "It was indirectly about _you_."

"You told him about us?" Brick questioned, furrowing his eyebrows.

She shook her head, "He guessed that something was going on between us. This whole time, he thought you were my boyfriend," Blossom explained. She purposefully left out the part about the professor thinking Brick loves her. If he did, Blossom wanted it to be on Brick's terms and not from someone else's assumption.

"Huh," Brick smirked. "I knew there was a reason why he's my favorite teacher."

"Yeah…" She inhaled deeply, pushing herself to finally get out the words that have suffocated in her chest for the better part of the day. "In a way… talking to him made me realize how much I do want," she motioned between them, " _This_." Blossom tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, continuing, "All the talk earlier today, that was the old me resurfacing for a moment. It was the hyper-critical, logic over everything Blossom. It was also the extremely insecure and indecisive Blossom... But what I'm saying is that… I'm going to listen to my heart from now on."

Brick grinned widely, inching more forward over the table, "And what does your heart desire?"

" _You_ ," she answered confidently, placing her hand over his and leaning forward. Brick met her halfway, using his free hand to cup her face.

Blossom melted, taking in the pleasant taste of chocolate, coffee, and—his usual flavor—cinnamon. She ran her tongue over his lips as he opened his mouth for her to enter.

They soon broke apart for air, staring lovingly into each other's eyes.

It was not until they heard an awkward cough, when they turned their heads to find their waitress holding a coffee pot, did they realize they probably should not have kissed each other like that in public.

"I was going to see if you needed more coffee…" she trailed off, eyeing them suspiciously. Blossom's face instantly reddened as Brick tried to suppress his laughter. "But it looks like you're a bit preoccupied."

"More coffee sounds good," he laughed, moving his mug to the edge of the table.

"Mmmhh…" The waitress poured the dark liquid, giving Blossom the most awkward ten seconds of her life. When done, she glanced at Brick, then to Blossom, and back at Brick. "Make sure to stay respectful, got it?"

"Yes ma'am," Brick grinned, continuing to laugh as Blossom buried her face in her hands.

"Good."

Once she was gone, Brick gently pried Blossom's hands from her face, taking her hands into his, "We're going to need to leave a big tip now."

Blossom chuckled at his comment, her face becoming more pink than red now, "Yeah. We do."

He pressed his forehead against her's, tracing small circles on the back of her hand, "So…"

"So… Are we official now?"

"Fuck yeah, we are," he whispered.

Blossom smiled brightly, speaking softly on his lips, "I'm glad that you're my boyfriend now."

"And I'm glad you're my girlfriend," Brick murmured before pulling Blossom into—a more publicly appropriate—kiss.

* * *

Robin Snyder was a nobody. It was a fact she has known her entire life.

Growing up on a blink-and-you-would-miss-it apple farm in northern New York, the only friends she had growing up were her cat, Mr. Purry, and her parents due to being homeschooled from kindergarten to eighth grade. However, she figured there could be more than being a farmhand and homeschooled—she craved more. That was why she went behind her parents' backs and applied to the Academy.

Once she convinced them to allow her to go and physically arrived on campus, Robin made it her personal goal to become _somebody._

It was clear the easiest path to doing so, at first, was getting close to Princess—which was what she did. The brunette became the redhead's closest friend, social climbing to the top by association.

Then Blossom came in.

Princess' popularity crashed and burned, while Blossom's skyrocketed. In this distressing time, the curly-haired girl forgot all about Robin, too blinded by her need for revenge.

Secretly, the brunette was grateful by Princess dropping her, as it let her to be able to get close to Blossom. Soon, Robin was in the same league as the redhead, Bubbles, and Buttercup. She _was_ the original sixth member of their group before Brick was ever known.

During the time, Robin was living the life she always wanted. Everyone knew her name. She got invited to all the parties on campus. Cute boys finally looked at her instead of over her.

Then Blossom and Buttercup started getting suspicious of Robin's motives. They soon quickly found out the brunette's true intentions and deannouned their friendship with her. However, they did not want to cause any public drama to the group.

The three struck a deal. Robin had to leave the group without saying a word to anyone about it and they would keep her ulterior motive a secret.

So she went. Her tail tucked in between her legs, ashamed by her fleeting time in the spotlight. The brunette mourned what could have been if they never discovered the truth.

Time went on, years passed, and Robin went back to being a nobody. She took on roles in school to get some attention—treasurer of the art club, head of the Homecoming committee, head-editor of the yearbook—but no one cared. They were still obsessed with Blossom and her friend group. Even more than before, thanks to Brick's new addition.

Robin hated it. She could not stand them and everything they stood for. How perfect they were. All the accomplishments they had. The full amount of attention they got for simply existing.

The worst part was, they acted like their popularity was a nuisance. They did not want the priority and attention they received. Furthermore, other than the blondes in the group, the others were quite rude to those who were not them.

Robin did not understand how such impolite people could be treated above everyone else. It made the brunette sick to her stomach, believing they did not deserve to be on top.

So, she watched them from the outside. Waiting patiently for any moment where there was discourse within the group for her to sneak her way back in like a Trojan horse and break them apart—but more importantly, to destroy Blossom and Buttercup.

Robin liked to believe she was _Cinderella_ , forced into the cellar of unknownness, and they were the wicked stepsisters, spoiling and punishing her from her true calling. The brunette knew, like _Cinderella_ , her moment would happen soon enough as long as she behaved nicely—which she has except for the one moment when she ridiculed Bubbles for donating the art club funds due to her being mad at the blonde for stealing all the attention that night. She treated them all with kindness and nothing more. She believed the universe, acting as her fairy godmother, who reward her for doing so.

It already did when giving her, her _Prince Charming_.

She was even more pleased by stealing him away from Buttercup and her wickedness. Furthermore, he was willing to take Blossom down without a second thought because that was just how much he was devoted to her.

Patience was the key to her master plan to the secret she discovered. When the moment would arrive, Robin would know when to strike.

And as she stopped to stare at the bright neon lights of a diner on the way back from a date with Mitch, Robin grinned devilishly to herself when her eyes lowered down to find a pair of redheads through a window, tenderly kissing each other only twelve hours after the biggest break up of the school year.

Robin knew this was the start of her _Cinderella_ moment.

"Mitch." The brunette squeezed her boyfriend's hand, glancing mischievously in his eyes, the neon lights illuminating their faces like a kaleidoscope, "You remember the plan we made during Homecoming?"

"To take down Blossom?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow. Robin nodded, "Yeah. what about it?"

Robin shrugged over to the diner, watching Mitch's eyes widened, "Guess who got _very sloppy_ with her relationships."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Welp. It has finally happened. The break up is finally done.**

 **I'm super stoked to get to this point in the story as I mentioned it shifts the story to a somewhat new direction, which is very, very exciting.**

 **But man, this chapter needed a major facelift when being edited. I added in the scene with Blossom and Butch in the hallway, changed the overall tone of the breakup scene, but also changed the entire dialouge of Blossom and Brick's conversation in the janitor's closet. I'm satisfied with the finished product way more now than I was when I first started editing.**

 **Also, I know Boomer was not relevant in this chapter and neither was Bubbles that much (Which will both be explained in the next chapter more), but they will be heavily featured in the next chapter. Furthermore, they are about to share a big plot line together soon enough.**

 **Until next time, thank you for reading and please review!**


	20. Time Will Tell

Staring out at the auditorium packed with the entire student body of the Academy, Principal Him grinned at crowd, approaching the podium on the stage. Him tapped on the microphone attached to the stand, checking the sound before beginning the speech prepared for the event.

"It saddens me today that we will have to say goodbye to one of the most acclaimed teachers here at the Academy. Professor Utonium has been a valuable asset at TA for over a decade. During these years, he has committed himself to the betterment of not only himself, the Academy, but most importantly, his students. As one of his colleagues for the majority of his time here, Professor Utonium enjoyed nothing more than teaching each and every one of his students. Which, again, is why it comes to me with such a deep sorrow to say goodbye to an extremely remarkable teacher but I ensure Professor Utonium's spirit and enthusiasm for teaching with not be forgotten at Townsville Academy. Nor will the bonds he created with his students," Him concluded, motioning towards the projection screen to the back of the stage. "And now, I present a little video project a student created as a way to say a final goodbye to Professor Utonium."

Principal Him stepped aside, letting the video play as the students watched reluctantly. A title flashed across the screen, reading as an ' _Ode to The Professor_ ' before switching over to a run down of various students sharing their many experiences and goodbyes to Professor Utonium.

As a particular redhead male flashed on screen, detailing how the Professor was one of the best teachers he's had, a green-eyed male groaned to himself, rolling his eyes.

"I'm so fucking tired of this guy," Butch grumbled to Buttercup, who sat beside him.

"Considering that you live with him, you must sleep very well then," she joked.

"Funny," he replied dully.

"I can be," Buttercup shrugged with a smirk. Her gaze settled on Butch's profile. His arms were crossed as he had sunken into the lumpy seating of the auditorium. A scowl profoundly displayed on his face. "But you're right. Fuck Brick."

"Thank you," he exasperated. "It's been literally two weeks since everything happened yet everyone is more concerned about him and the swim team than me."

"Why would you want undesired attention, Butch? None of those people matter because they're not your friends."

"I know," Butch sighed. "I just… It's fucked up knowing no one cares about me but they adore _him_ and his facade."

"That's because they're all idiots," Buttercup pointed out. She then nudged his shoulder with her's. "Besides, I care about you."

"Yeah, you do," he nodded. "Thank you for that."

"Anytime," she grinned. Her chest was swelling up from the inside out.

Her eyes lingered on Butch, lost in her thoughts longer than she realized, not even noticing Butch analyzing the crowd in his seat and then narrowing his eyes at her.

"Do you know where Blossom is?" he questioned in a hush but desperate tone.

" _Blossom?"_

Buttercup wanted to shrill about how Butch should not care about Blossom's whereabouts. Explain to him on how they broke up and he should not be thinking about her. She wanted to reveal the truth about her once again to halt his curiosity about the redhead.

"Yeah, Blossom," Butch nodded. "Do you know where she is?"

"We're not exactly on the best of terms right now."

"Of course," he huffed, rolling his eyes. "When aren't you fighting nowadays?"

"Excuse me?" Buttercup scoffed. "Are you seriously giving me a shitty attitude because I don't know where your _ex-girlfriend_ is? And if so, you need to get over it. Move on because we both know she already has someone lined up to be her rebound."

Butch softened his gaze at her before burrowing his head in his hands.

"I'm such a fucking idiot," he muttered into his palms, barely audible to Buttercup but she caught onto what he had said.

"Right now? Yeah, you are," she retorted, folding her arms and leaning back into her seat.

Two weeks and he still was not over her.

Two weeks and he could not get her off of his mind.

It was torture. The cruelest form, Butch decided. To love someone who seemed to no longer have any interest in him anymore. He felt like a discarded toy. Filthy and played with like a fool but there was nothing he wanted more than to be picked up and to be played with once again. The thought of being with Blossom still brought him delight in an indescribable way.

In short, Butch was not handling his heartbreak well nor did he want to admit it despite it being particularly obvious how deeply it was effecting him.

"I'm sorry," he replied, uncovering his face and meeting Buttercup's eyes. "I'm being an ass and you're right."

Buttercup lightened her gaze on him, sighing to herself, "It's fine."

"It's not."

"Please don't turn this into an argument, Butch," Buttercup exasperated, rubbing her temples. "I don't want us to be on bad terms and start hating each other again."

"Hating you?" He repeated, flabbergasted by her comment. "I could never go back to that. You're too fucking awesome."

Buttercup could feel her heart skip a beat from his compliment. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"I'm glad we established that now."

"Why? You were worried?"

"Slightly," she confessed. "I tend to push people away when they start getting too close."

"Good thing I'm persistent," he joked.

"That..." Buttercup sighed. "You are."

* * *

"Am I the only one who finds Professor Utonium's retirement to be a bit odd?" Boomer asked Bubbles as they shuffled out of the auditorium with the rest of their classmates. "I mean, who exactly decides to leave in the middle of the school year without having a good reason to do so?"

"I don't know," Bubbles shrugged. "Perhaps it was just the right time for him."

"Maybe," the blond said skeptically as they exited into the courtyard, walking along the pathways to the picnic tables. "But I still think something is up."

"You always do," Bubbles replied fondly. "That's you, Boomy. Making up one conspiracy theory to another."

"But they're not conspiracies."

Bubbles paused in her steps, stopping in front of Boomer and placing her hands on her hips. Her chin lifting up defiantly, "Boom, you believe that the world is flat."

"Hey, I'm not the only one who does."

"What about your theory about the government controlling the weather?"

"Incredibly plausible."

"And the one about people being hypnotized into believing snow is enjoyable?"

"Okay, that one was just a personal opinion," Boomer grumbled sheepishly.

Bubbles sighed to herself, moving out of Boomer's path and resuming their walk to the tables, "You're impossible."

Boomer arched an eyebrow at her, noticing the tension oozing out of her.

"Hey. Is everything okay?"

"What?" She questioned brashly before forcing a smile and nodding. "Oh yeah. Everything is great!" The blonde replied, faking her cheery tone. "Why the question?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "You seemed more tense than Blossom during finals week."

"Oh," she mumbled.

"Bubs," Boomer smiled softly, reaching out for her hand and entwining his fingers with hers. His ocean blues eyes contacting hers, "If something's wrong, you can tell me."

"I know," Bubbles nodded, inhaling sharply. "I just... I guess I've been stressed with the musical lately. Rehearsals have been exhausting and my grades are starting to slip a little because I barely have anytime to do my homework. And then there's the agony of waiting for—" Bubbles paused, realizing who she was talking to.

Boomer still had no clue about her reaching out to her dad. She has been too caught up in the musical that she failed to realize his lack of knowledge on her activities lately. In fact, Bubbles was beginning to become aware of how much time they have been spending away from each other. Usually, they were attached at the hip, doing practically everything and anything together; and when they were apart, they were glued back together immediately afterward. But now she had the musical and Boomer had the swim team, on top of their classwork. This made them only able to see each other during lunch and Ms. Keane's class for the past few weeks.

She did not want to admit it but Bubbles enjoyed having a piece of her life that was simply her own. It seemed as if her entire high school career has had Boomer lingering around in the background. The musical was the sole exception and it took her the latter half of her senior year to realize this.

Perhaps, deep down, this was why she did not tell Boomer about her dad. Because once she did, it would no longer be a _Bubbles_ thing, it will be a _Bubbles and Boomer_ thing.

"Agony over what?" Boomer asked.

"It's nothing," she dismissed.

"Are you sure?"

Before Bubbles could rebuttal or reply, the blonde couple's individual conversation ended when Butch and Buttercup had made their way to them, interjecting themselves.

"What the hell was the point of that assembly?" Buttercup remarked after greeting the couple. "I get how some would be upset about Utonium leaving but I never had him as a teacher and I'm pretty sure a lot of other people didn't either."

"It got us out of class, though," Butch acknowledged with a grin. "So I would be more grateful, B."

"Whatever," the green-eyed girl replied, rolling her eyes but unable to contain the small smile on her face.

"Don't you find it strange that he's retiring in the first place?" Boomer questioned. "The timing is a bit off."

"You know, now that I think about it, you're actually right, Boom," she answered, her eyebrows furrowing at the thought. "Why would he leave when his AP students still have a shit ton to learn before the test?"

"What are AP students?" the blond male asked, confused.

"It's not important," Buttercup responded. "But what is important, is that you may be onto something, Boom."

"Ha," he grinned, turning to Bubbles. "See. Not a conspiracy theory."

"So what exactly do you think is his deal?" Buttercup asked as Bubbles playfully rolled her eyes at Boomer.

"Maybe he got fired and they just don't want to outright say it," Bubbles suggested.

"Not the answer I thought you would give, Bubs," the dark-haired girl smirked, impressed with the dark nature of Bubbles' answer.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should."

"Okay, this may sound far fetch but what if—"

"I'm going to stop you right there," Buttercup interrupted, holding up a finger to silence Boomer. "If you're going to say anything containing the idea of aliens, cryptids, or the Illuminati, I'm going to have to shut it down."

"But—"

"Shut. It. Down."

"Fine," he muttered under his breath, crossing his arms stubbornly.

Buttercup took a minute to consider any ideas but was drawing a blank since she had no clue who Professor Utonium was except for about how kind and uplifting he was. Perhaps, she would have to speak to Ms. Keane to get any ideas.

That was when a light-bulb went off in her head.

Buttercup snapped her fingers together, grinning excitedly, "We should investigate this."

"Like they do on _Dateline_?" Boomer questioned with enthusiasm.

"You would watch _Dateline_ ," Buttercup said under her breath. "But yes. Exactly like _Dateline._ We'll ask Ms. Keane what she knows about the Professor and his retirement, then afterward we can make an accurate hypothesis." Boomer opened his mouth, beginning to formulate a sentence but Buttercup beat him to it, sighing, "Hypothesis means making an educated guess. So it will be something more based on facts than simple imagination."

"Oh, I like that," the blond nodded. "Let's do it. The swim team doesn't have practice today, so my afternoon is completely free."

"Sick," she grinned. Buttercup glanced at Bubbles, asking, "What about you?"

"Sorry. I have rehearsal until 8."

"It's fine." Buttercup turned to Butch, finding him staring off in the distance. The green-eyes girl squinted her eyes, attempting to see anything out of the ordinary in which would have caught his attention.

There was not anything except her classmates eating lunch at the picnic tables until her eyes landed on a particular table.

Blossom and Brick were on their own, eating their respective lunches and engaging in what appeared to be a delightful conversation. Their blissful ignorance to the knife striking against Butch's heart repeatedly as he continued to watch them.

Buttercup groaned to herself, elbowing his side, which snapped him out of the envious trance he was under.

"What was that—"

"We're investigating the Professor, are you in?"

"I was kind of planning on training more before soccer starts next week," he answered.

Buttercup eyed him suspiciously, believing his reply was lie. She was pretty sure he was going to end up wallowing in his dorm room for the majority of the afternoon until he grew bored with himself. That was when he usually asked her to watch a movie with him in the library like he has done for the past two weeks. From this routine, Buttercup was slowly getting accustomed to a few terms in Portuguese since Butch would translate the language to her as they would watch anime films in the language instead of the cheesy romance films that the library theater kept.

"Are you sure? This might be good for you. Keep your mind off—"

"I'm good," he said shortly.

"Okay," Buttercup replied dejectedly.

"Well, it sounds like this will be the long awaited Boom and Butters team up," Boomer grinned.

"Who's been waiting for that shit?" Butch questioned.

"I have," the blond answered as he clapped his hands together and then began rubbing them eagerly. "And I can't wait to get started."

* * *

Seeing Blossom and Brick hanging out definitely threw Butch off even more than before. Despite knowing they were in contact for the majority of the past two weeks—He has seen them having sneaky and extremely private conversations in Ms. Keane's class. Furthermore, Brick has been returning to their dorm room way beyond the acceptable time to simply say 'practice ended'.

Just seeing them interact in public, so naturally and comfortably, made Butch sick to his stomach.

He should be the one with Blossom.

Even after what had occurred between them, Butch still wanted her. He knew this was idiotic but he could not just turn off his feelings for her. They were together for almost two years.

Butch thought he was going to marry her.

So perhaps that was why he wanted to hang on to the hope of Blossom changing her mind and coming back to him.

However, Butch could not did deny this did not seem plausible because of the redhead growing more closer to Brick with each day. This was the part that pained him the most.

To know Blossom was moving on in a rapid pace, while he was still pinning after her. Butch did not want to stop caring about her. He did not want to lose her but maybe it was for best if they did spend some time apart. Explore other options to grow a new appreciation for one another.

It would only be temporary, however. Soon enough Blossom would realize the mistake she has made and she would come back to him like he hopes. For Butch, only time would tell when Blossom would wake up from the delusions Brick has been feeding her. When it does happen, Butch would be on the other side, waiting for her.

* * *

"Okay, first we're going to interview Coach Lumpkins," Boomer explained as Buttercup and him left their final class of the day.

"Why?" She questioned, caught off guard by the blond's suggestion, gesturing back to the classroom behind him. "I thought we were just going to talk to Ms. Keane and find out what we want to know. It will save us hella of a lot of time too."

"But it cuts the suspense," Boomer whined. "Plus, it makes things seem more legit if we ask more teachers."

"Boom, I—"

"Buttercup, please?" The blond placed his hand on her shoulder, staring intensely at her with big, ocean blue puppy dog eyes. "I need this."

Buttercup wanted to say no. She did not want to spend her entire afternoon interrogating the Academy's facility but Buttercup could tell this meant something more to Boomer. Buttercup could not put her finger on it but there was information Boomer was withholding from her, and on top of the mystery of Professor Utonium's retirement, she was going to figure out what was Boomer's deal.

"Fine," she sighed, slumping her shoulders in defeat. "We'll start with Coach Lumpkins."

"Great," Boomer grinned, beginning his walk towards the gym with a pep in his step.

* * *

"Hey Coach Lumpkins," Boomer greeted, knocking on the coach's door as he popped his head into his office. "Can we talk to you for a second?"

The gruff old man narrowed his eyes at the blond, readjusting the reading glasses he wore, as he placed the newspaper that was he was reading on to his desk.

"Do I know ya?"

"Boomer Kealoha," the blond replied with grin, stepping into the office despite not receiving an official okay yet, motioning for Buttercup to join him. The dark-haired girl awkwardly scooted in beside him, giving a short wave to the coach. "I'm the guy who tried out for the football team sophomore year. I almost made the team but then I caused the goal post to split in half and got forbidden from joining the team afterward."

"Oh yeah," Coach Lumpkin recollected, nodding at the memory.

"Great, now—"

"Get the hell out of my office," the man threatened loudly, his bushy eyebrows furrowing in rage at the sight of Boomer. His sausage finger pointing sharply at the door behind them. "You're nothin' but trouble, boy."

"But–"

"Out!"

"Alright," Boomer shrugged, walking out of the office. Buttercup glanced at Coach Lumpkins and then to the door Boomer exited from, confused by the previous thirty seconds before she chased after Boomer, stopping in front of him.

"What the hell was that?"

"He didn't want us in his office, so I followed his directions," Boomer explained simply, a happy-go-lucky smile on his face.

"And what about the Professor?"

"We have other teachers to ask," the blond brushed off. "But it is better to avoid any trouble while we do this. Don't you agree?"

"Well, I…" Buttercup paused, taking a minute to properly understand what Boomer said. She was beginning to wonder when did the blond start to make a lot of sense lately. It was quite perplexing to her. "Yeah, I do agree."

"Great," Boomer beamed. "And since we're already in the gym, we should move on to Coach Boogieman now."

"Good idea," Buttercup nodded.

Coach Boogieman has been in charge of the school's baseball team since the nineties. Being one of the few winning teams in the Academy's history, Boogieman was highly respected by his peers, superiors, and students alike.

As the pair turned the corner to make their way to the coach's office, he was actually leaving, meeting them halfway as they changed their direction to join him on his way out of the gymnasium.

"Hey coach," Buttercup grinned. "Can we ask you a few questions?"

"Depends," the coach smirked. His voice sounded deep and soothing. It was similar to late night radio host or smooth DJs from the seventies.

"It's about Professor Utonium."

"The uptight science guy?" He questioned, chuckling to himself.

"Yeah, him," Boomer nodded. "Do you know why he is retiring all of the sudden?"

The coach shrugged his pointy shudders, "I heard a few rumors from my colleagues but nothing from the source."

"Anything that stays out?" Buttercup asked attentively.

"Mmmhh," he pondered, placing his red-tinted sunglasses on as they opened the doors to the gym. Sunlight soaked into their presences. "Ms. Fatale did have a… quite interesting tale, I do say." He looked down at the students. Their eyes stared into the reflective surface of his glasses, unable to detect any emotions that may exist in his eyes. "Why the questions?"

"Just curious—"

"We're investigating what has forced Utonium to retire," Boomer replied casually. Buttercup elbowed him in the ribs, glaring at him.

Coach Boogieman laughed halfheartedly at them, "If I were you, I wouldn't continue on with this," he advised. "You might find out results you don't want to hear."

"So you do know something?" Buttercup picked up. Her eyes narrowing at the coach as she placed her hands on her hips.

"I didn't even know Utonium existed until Him announced his retirement," he admitted. "He is too square for me to notice him."

"He's not wrong," Boomer whispered to her.

Buttercup rolled her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose, "Thank you for answering our questions, Coach."

* * *

Being a part of the spring musical was not what Bubbles thought it was going to be. When she signed up, the blonde did not initially take in account how much time she would spend in rehearsal.

How much her body would ache from weeks of practicing dance routines. Or how difficult it would be to find a remedy to soothe her vocal cords from singing all afternoon.

The lack of spare time she had leftover in her days. Her homework was going past due dates and her studying habits were becoming non-existent in the past few weeks as rehearsals grew more grueling and intense to make up for the show dates in about a month.

It was difficult for her to keep up with anything that was not eating, sleeping, and preparing for the musical. In this time, Bubbles was failing to see how much she was neglecting her relationships until she almost spilled about her dad to Boomer.

Bubbles had no clue how or when Buttercup and Butch become friends. She did not predict the break up between Blossom and Butch despite knowing Blossom's feelings for Brick.

The blonde did not even realize she has not even spoken to Butch about the break up and to see if he was okay other than sending a brief text message. It was unlike her in every degree to neglect her friends.

Then there was Boomer. They still spoke. She knew what was going on in his life and he knew most of what was going on in her's but something was off.

Was it her? Was it him? Both of them?

Bubbles could not help feeling their relationship had a shift in a sense after Boomer revealed his lack of enthusiasm for college. Despite it being hypocritical of her, she did not like the fact of him lying in the first place about the situation. Perhaps that was why she found it okay not to tell him about her dad.

But this troubled Bubbles. When did her and Boomer start lying to each other?

They were usually an open book to one another. Unafraid of telling the ugly truth to each other but here they were, keeping, what it seemed to be, more and more secrets from each other.

Panicked flashed through Bubbles' mind at this thought. What if her and Boomer become the new Blossom and Butch? Tragically doomed because of a lack of communication.

Well, there were other factors in which caused the downward spiral of Blossom and Butch, which calmed Bubbles down enough to carry on with rehearsal for the rest of the evening but it was not enough to put the fear to dead.

Bubbles glanced around the stage, continuing on with her stretches while in deep thought. Ms. Sedusa had stepped outside for a moment, giving her and her follow student-actors time to breath.

Her eyes landed on another blonde across the way. Bubbles pursed her lips in consideration.

In the recent weeks, Dee Dee has been giving her the silent treatment for no reasonable explanation. While it did trouble her, Bubbles has not tended to whatever the discourse was due to considering the musical to be more important. But now having her eyes clear for the moment, Bubbles saw this was an opportunity to fix the rough patch in their friendship.

The blonde quickly rose to her feet, heading over to Dee Dee's side. She smiled softly at her, speaking in a chippy tone.

"Hey Dees, do you want to go over some lines together?"

Instead of replying, Dee Dee turned her head away from Bubbles, crossing her arms in protest.

Bubbles frowned gravelly, her body wallowing at the reaction, "Dee Dee, what's wrong?"

The silence persisted.

"Please, tell me why you're giving me the silent treatment," Bubbles begged.

"Like you don't know," Dee Dee grumbled under her breath before retreating away from Bubbles to the other side of the stage.

Bubbles took a step forward, attempting to follow her and ask her what she meant but bright, red curls blocked her path.

"Ooo, that's gotta hurt," Princess pretended to wince with amusement. "I can't believe she is treating you this way."

"Princess, I'm not—"

"I mean, I would have thought Dee Dee was more of _chicks before dicks_ type of gal, but I guess not," the redhead shrugged. A cool smirk plastered on her face.

Bubbles froze. She blinked at Princess without a response.

Princess had just implied…

"What did you just say?"

"Oh honey," Princess fake sympathized but Bubbles failed to realize it as she was distraught by the idea that the redhead may have presented. "You didn't hear? Dee Dee has been crushing on your man since the dawn of time."

"That doesn't make any sense," the blonde refused, despite a neglected fear sprucing itself up again in her head.

"Oh but it does," Princess grinned, circling around Bubbles like a shark surrounding it's prey. "Dee Dee has been into him this entire time but didn't say anything because she cared about you. But I guess you getting Boomer _and_ the lead in the musical was her breaking point. I mean, how many times can a girl come up short without reaching their limit, am I right?"

Bubbles stood silently, absorbing the new information from Princess.

She was right all along.

Dee Dee did want Boomer just like she thought back when they did the compatibility project for Ms. Keane.

 _Blossom and Butch._

Dee Dee could be the Brick in their situation, taking advantage of the faults in their relationship just like the redhead did with Blossom and Butch's relationship.

Even though the tiniest part of her told her not to trust Princess, the information correlated with what the blonde had already believed, combining two of her fears into one.

Which meant Bubbles needed to fix her relationship as soon as possible or, in time, Dee Dee with become the new Brick.

* * *

"Hey, is everything alright?" Boomer asked as he jogged steadily to match Buttercup's fast pace.

After their talk with Coach Boogieman, they had traveled throughout each academic building, hearing various tales from a number of teachers. Ms. Fatale went on to say Professor Utonium was going on to be first man on Mars and how unfair it was not a woman instead. Ms. Sedusa hissed at them to leave due to interrupting rehearsal for the spring musical. Professor Jojo told a thirty minute story about how Professor Utonium was not fit to be a teacher that only consisted of a different variations of the same five sentences. They even spoke to a guidance counselor, Mr. Mayor, who only entertained a conversation with them in order for Buttercup to open a pickle jar for him.

"Yeah," Buttercup dismissed, glancing at the blond harshly for a second before catching herself. She took a deep breath, letting go of any ill feelings towards Boomer. Instead, she informed him about her frustrations instead of holding it all in until she reached her limit with him. The dark-haired girl paused in her steps, sighing to herself, "It's just, I don't know why we're doing this."

"To find out about the Professor," Boomer reminded, stopping along side her with a smile.

"I get that. I… I don't know," she shrugged. "Going around, asking every teacher, it seems pointless and a waste of time."

She waited for Boomer to respond but he resisted her stare, stepping back into the lockers near them and sliding to the ground. A few strands of his blond hair covered his eyes.

"That's why I wanted to do it," he mumbled.

Buttercup furrowed her eyebrows, surprised by Boomer's change of demeanor.

"What–"

"I needed a distraction, Buttercup."

"From what?" She asked attentively, sliding down beside him.

"A lot, actually," he confessed, tilting his head to the side in order to meet her eyes. "I mean, for starters, compared to everyone else, I feel like I don't have a future."

"Because you didn't get into college? Boomer, a lot of people can get through life without it."

"But I went here. I'm going to be the only person here who didn't get into some spectacular school," he murmured. "You and Brick are going to Stanford–"

"Don't remind me," Buttercup grumbled, rolling her eyes.

"NYU accepted Dee Dee. I heard Blossom and Dexter got accepted to every school they applied to. And as proud as I am for him, Butch was endangered of being kicked out for poor performance yet he was good enough for Berkeley... For fucks sake, Princess, who technically got expelled, is going to Brown next fall," he exasperated, clenching his fists.

"That's because her daddy paid for it," Buttercup smirked. "Not because of any of her actual skills."

"And you're probably right," he nodded. "I just feel like a huge failure compared to all of you. And…" Boomer paused, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He flexed out his palms, relieving them of his pinned up frustration. "And I'm one hundred percent sure Bubbles would have been accepted to UCLA if it wasn't for me."

Buttercup raised an eyebrow, studying the soften, sorrowful expression of his face at the mention of Bubbles. "Boomer, is this really about not getting into college or is it about Bubbles?" She asked cautiously.

Boomer opened his mouth to reply but retracted what he wanted to say every time until he finally gave an answer two minutes later.

"Both," he breathed, running a hand through his moppy, dirty blond hair. "I'm the reason she will not have the future she wants but I also can't keep up with whatever she has imagined in her head for us."

Buttercup nodded, digesting his confession. She patted his shoulder in acknowledgement, attempting to give him the best advice she could.

"It is not your fault for Bubbles deciding not to apply to UCLA. Sure, you may have somewhat influenced the decision but were you demanding she shouldn't?"

"No," he whispered.

"Exactly. She shot herself in the foot in this situation and you can't blame yourself," Buttercup shrugged. "And on trying to keep up with her idea of your future, don't. It's your future too. If you both want to have each other in it, then you have to make it a mutual agreement. Not one following the other."

Boomer inhaled intensely, nodding, "You're right. I just… I think I have made up my mind on what I want to do but I know she wouldn't be happy with it and… I'm scared that I'm losing her. Things have been different between us lately. We don't communicate as well and I've been keeping _secrets_ from her, which has also been eating me alive from the deep-seated guilt of the situation."

"Well…" Buttercup fixated her sight on the ceiling tiles of the hallway. The harsh brightness of fluorescent lights illuminated her face. "If communication is your problem, then just tell her what you want to say. It's that simple sometimes. Tell her what you want because it's Bubbles and she will always take into account what you want. She loves you more than anything and vice versa. So no matter what, I'm sure you'll meet a common ground. But you have to make the first step if you think this is a problem because Bubbles may be clueless about everything. Tell her what it is that is upsetting you. Tell her how you feel. Tell her the secrets you are keeping."

Boomer shook his head furiously, "There's certain things I can't tell her, Butters. What I'm keeping… it could destroy a lot of people we care about."

Buttercup narrowed her eyes, growing a little suspicious by what he was implying.

"Boomer," she said firmly. "What do you know?"

"Oh no," he dismissed, waving his hands crazily to say no. "I'm not saying."

"Does this _secret_ have to concern _Blossom_ and her poor decision making?" She questioned venomously, arching an eyebrow.

"It's possible." Boomer paused to himself, pursing his lips in disbelief. "Wait… You know about…" Buttercup nodded dishearteningly. "How?"

"Blossom told me about them making out on New Year's. Then, from my understanding, they officially got together when Butch and I left for Statesville and have been since."

"They lied to me," Boomer muttered to himself. "I mean, I had a gut feeling that they did but now… Now I know they truly did."

"What do you mean?"

"I caught them making out on the first day of swim practice. Afterward, I confronted Brick about it and told him that I will tell Butch, but he promised to breakup with her and then a few days later, he was 'with' Princess." Boomer rubbed the back of his neck, recounting the mistake he made in judgement. "I should have saw it coming."

"Yeah, you should have, but are you fucking kidding me?" Buttercup exasperated, tossing her hands up in the air. "They were careless enough to let you see them—no offense."

"Dude, I had no fucking clue that they even liked each other," Boomer grinned. "I take no offense."

"Oh, they _like_ each other alright," Buttercup said bitterly. "You should see how many hickeys Blossom has on a regular basis now. It's absolutely disgusting."

"So what? Are they just having sex? Or are they legit?"

"I think they're the real deal," she sighed. "Why else would Blossom risk all of this? Her reputation, Butch's wrath, and the paranoia? Too much to sacrifice for just a fuck buddy."

"Brick too," Boomer shrugged. "Butch would beat the shit out of him if he knew–Wow. How is Brick not terrified of not being murdered in his sleep?"

"Because Butch isn't a psychopath."

"When he gets to a certain point, Butch can be," the blond corrected.

"I guess."

A silence fell between the two as they took in the account of the newly discovered solidarity between them on this gigantic secret was a blessing and a curse.

"We can't tell anyone," Boomer murmured.

"No, we cannot," Buttercup agreed reluctantly. "Or like you said, it will ruin a lot of people's lives. Including ours."

"It's bullshit," he exhaled tiresomely.

"That's what happens when two people are too selfish to realize what effect they have on everyone else," the dark-haired girl shrugged. "I mean, Blossom uses my relationship with Butch as a way to keep me silent when I found out they were fucking."

"Blossom hasn't been a good person lately," Boomer replied absently.

"She isn't the same… I miss who she used to be."

"But," Boomer stared into Buttercup's eyes like a laser. "We can't blame this on Brick."

"He's the one who got in her head," Buttercup scoffed.

"Because she let him," the blond corrected. "I may be oblivious to a lot of things but I do know Blossom lets other's influence her into what type of person she is. Brick may or may not be shaping her up to be what he wants, but she is the one taking the permanent shape until the next person comes along."

"I don't… You… Ugh," she groaned, slumping her shoulders in defeat. "You have a point."

"I know," he grinned weakly.

"So what? Blossom is okay with being a terrible person?"

"If she is in love with Brick—"

"I'm going to barf," Buttercup gagged.

"Then she could be blind by what she has become… But we both know Blossom is more complicated than most people."

"Yeah," she sighed. "She did have a breakdown about cheating the first time and she did have a rough childhood which is why she's so impressionable."

"See," Boomer acknowledged. "Answers two questions in one. Brick is not to be blamed, per say, here because he should not have messed with a girl in a relationship but Blossom did have the decision to reject him. And then, Blossom could be aware of how nasty she has been and does feel awful."

"Then why hasn't she done anything to fix it?"

"Because who does she have to impress?" Boomer asked swiftly. "She broke Butch's heart, so she doesn't care about his opinion anymore. You've been fighting with her. Bubbles has the musical to distract her. I'm non-existent in any of your drama. Everyone will admire her despite what she does—She literally slapped Butch, and nearly the entire school saw it as liberating and are on her side. Her parents may have a chance to change her mind but they are not here nor have I ever heard about Blossom contacting them about anything else other than money. Therefore, that only leaves Brick, and from what we both know, he likes her for how she is. So she is not going change just for the sake of it. Sadly, Blossom is too selfish for that."

Buttercup furrowed her eyebrows at Boomer, unable to believe how much sense he was making again.

When she did, the green-eyed girl grinned at him, nudging him with her elbow.

"Well, Boom. When did you get so hyper-analytical?"

"Sometimes I can't get my mind clear when I meditate, so I observe a lot of things on a intro-perspective level," he shrugged.

"So why can't you do that with Bubbles?" Buttercup questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"That's… more complicated," Boomer sighed. "It's hard to be non-partisan when it's someone you care about. I tend to focus on the positives of Bubs, instead of anything else because that's how I constantly see her."

"I get it."

"But I do think I will talk to her," he smirked. "Not about Blossom and Brick but everything else, I will."

"Good."

"And Buttercup," Boomer smiled, gazing into her eyes. "Thank you. This was really helpful and compassionate of you."

Buttercup nodded, "Of course. You would do the same for me—you actually have done the same for me," she acknowledged. "So yeah. No biggie."

"I know but… This was a huge step for you in being more open to others' emotions. A year ago, you would have dismissed me before our conversation would have even started."

"You're not wrong," she chuckled but felt a swelling inside of her chest full of pride at the accomplishment she made.

Boomer chuckled along with her before glancing around the hall and standing up. He dusted away the dirt from his khaki shorts, looking down at Buttercup, "I think that was a long enough break."

"Same," she grinned. Boomer presented his hand to her, helping to lift her off the ground. "I think we should cut the bullshit and go straight to the main person to ask."

"Me too," Boomer nodded. "No more tedious steps to distract myself—which I'm sorry about for dragging you into."

"It's fine."

"So who is the main person? The Professor?"

"No," Buttercup replied. "Ms. Keane."

* * *

Instead of practicing soccer like he originally intended to, Butch ended up going to the library, which resulted in him watching three anime films in a row. He had no clue why he did this as he preferred watching the movies with Buttercup but Butch did the enjoy the solitude he had during the time. For about six hours, it was just his blank thoughts and colorful animated characters who spoke his native tongue. It might have been the most content he has been in almost a month.

As he reluctantly trudged back to his dorm, Butch was unpleasantly surprised to find Brick there, asleep in his bed. Butch was caught off guard due to the redhead having become a habitual night owl in the short month. It was strange to find him, sleeping at eight o'clock at night. Perhaps he was attempting to catch up on all the sleep he has been missing doing, god knows what?

Butch grimaced to himself, having an idea of what Brick may have been doing with his time at night. He was probably with Blossom. Telling her everything she wanted to hear, charming her into becoming his girlfriend.

He did not want to say it out loud but Butch was surprised the redheads have not announced their coupledom—or at least their mutual interest in each other—to the school. It was a bit off to him.

Butch smiled softly at fleeing thought. Perhaps they have not become a couple yet because Blossom was having second thoughts.

She could still want him.

It was this notion in which kept him going. It kept him alive through all the shit that has transpired around him. His entire life may be crumbling into ruins but he may still have the girl he loves.

The person who he wanted to marry one day.

Butch simply needed to give her space. Once Blossom comes around, he would apologize for not being the best boyfriend and spend the rest of his time making it up to her. He would do this because he loves her.

He would wait for her because he firmly believed once Blossom has seen the lack of empathy, selfishness, and how much of an asshole Brick was, she would come back to him.

Butch grinned, feeling better despite the events of the past two weeks. His elated mood was crashed by the sound of an elevated snore escaping Brick's mouth, startling Butch back into reality.

The dark-haired male groaned quietly, deciding to exit his dorm since he did not want to be in there anymore because of the very sight of Brick annoyed him. Instead, Butch headed for the soccer field—like he originally told Buttercup—to blow off some steam.

* * *

"Ms. Keane, we have a question for you," Boomer said aggressively as he stormed into the English teacher's classroom.

Ms. Keane stared at the blond, bewildered, and then glancing at Buttercup who joined his side in front of her desk. The green-eyed girl shook her head and sighed to herself.

"Boomer, what are you doing?" She asked him quietly, a small dose of annoyance in her voice.

"I thought we could play good cop, bad cop," he smiled. "Every great investigation has one."

"Investigation?" Ms. Keane asked, her light blue eyes growing wide. "Is this about the number one pencils? Because I swear I didn't know."

"What? No?" Boomer answered, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. "But what—"

"No, no, no," Buttercup interrupted, putting her hand over Boomer's mouth. "We only have time for one overarching question for today, okay?"

The blond narrowed his eyes at the dark-haired girl for a second before nodding in defeat. "Good," she smirked, clearing her throat, turning her full attention to Ms. Keane. "Now back to what we really want to know. We were wondering if you could possibly tell us why Professor Utonium is retiring out of the blue like this?"

"I, uh, I…" Ms. Keane shook her head, snapping herself out of the daze she was under from being caught off guard from their question. She formed a firm, expressionless appearance for her two students despite the mixture of emotions she was keeping caged underneath the surface. "I cannot discuss such details with you."

"Details?" Boomer caught. "So there is a reason? Or should I say _reasons_?"

"Boomer… we already knew this," Buttercup groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Then… then we failed?" Boomer pouted. "We spent the entire afternoon looking for an answer about the Professor and we got… nothing?"

Buttercup nodded shamefully, folding her arms, "I guess we're not made for investigative work."

Ms. Keane watched the two interaction, shuffling a stack of papers on her desk to ease her emotions, "I hate to do this but I do need to inform the both of that you are not allowed in this building passed five o'clock—which was three hours ago. So you have to leave soon."

"But—"

"Excuse me?"

The three in the room snapped their necks to face the doorway, each ranging from distraught to shock to excitement at the person standing there.

Ms. Keane stood up from her desk, sending her desk chair into the wall but she did not care. Her mouth agape as she stumbled at first to speak before being able to pull together a coherent strand of words.

"Professor Utonium, what are…" she trailed off. A few tears formed in the corner of her eyes. She had thought they were done saying goodbye in the morning. The process was made much easier due to the entire faculty being present but him being here alone when he should be on his way home for the last time, made the event twice as hard as it already was for her. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard from a colleague of mine about two students bugging around about me," he grinned, eyeing Buttercup and Boomer. Buttercup smiled sheepishly at him while Boomer nodded eagerly at the identification. "And since I spent my best years teaching students about the unknown, I figured this could be the last time I help some students out with a question."

"Are—"

"You?"

"Serious?" Boomer finished for the three on the other side of the room.

"Jonathan, you can't do this. They shouldn't know. It's too much for them—"

"I'm sure they can handle it," he smiled softly at the two as he closed the classroom door behind him.

"We are," Buttercup smirked, taking a seat in the desk she usually occupied during her class period.

"Yup, definitely can," Boomer saluted, taking the desk in which Butch would have taken in class.

Ms. Keane hesitantly did the same, bring her desk chair back to underneath her desk. She reached out for the tissue box on her desk, knowing she would need them.

"Alright. The reason I am retiring is because…"

* * *

Butch grinned to himself as another ball got caught up in the soccer net. He was currently thirty out of thirty-five on practicing penalty kicks.

He inhaled a deep breath, feeling in his element. The smell of the fresh green grass. The blaring, bright lights directed above the soccer field, illuminating his presence. Just being able to kick the ball brought out a sense of joy within him.

In what was a confusing day, seemed to have a pleasant ending if Butch had to say.

He lightly jogged to the net to receive the ball. His hands curving tightly around it as he looked up to find an individual walking along the bleachers, too busy looking down at a notebook in her hands to notice him. Their blonde curls radiated in the lighting.

"Hey Bubs!" He shouted out, causing her to look up at him. She smiled at him, changing her path to the field and meeting him by the goal.

"Hey," she greeted. There was a hint of exhaust in her tone but it was still the trademark, bright greeting from Bubbles.

"Did rehearsal just get out? You seem tired."

"Yeah, it did. We've been learning the choreography for the hive jive sequence and it's been rough trying to learn the exact movements."

"I can only imagine," Butch chuckled.

"So why are you out here?"

"Brick was sleeping," he shrugged, frowning at the need to mention the redhead. "Besides, I needed to blow off some steam. And what other way for me to do so, than working on my soccer skills."

Bubbles nodded, her eyes analyzing the netting next to them. "How is everything?" She asked quietly. "I know I haven't been around that much lately and I'm sorry for that. I'm sure you could have needed me for when… _you know_."

Butch sighed at memory of his breakup with Blossom. "It's fine. You're busy with your own shit, which I'm actually proud of you for doing."

"Thank you."

"But I can say I've been better," he admitted. Butch dug his fingers into the firm ball, holding in the flashes of anger in which coursed through him. "It just seems like more and more shit is being piled on top of me to deal with. Like Him wanting to expel me. The realization I have no one but you, Boomer, and Buttercup to call as my friends here. My lack of college funding and the need to scramble for ways to pay for Berkeley… Blossom breaking my heart… her and Brick seeming to get closer and closer with every day…" He snorted, grimacing. "Yeah. It's been rough."

Bubbles reached out for him, rubbing his arm affectionately in comfort, "You'll make it through this Butch. If anyone can, it's you. Actually, this may seem super cheesy, but there's this quote that stood out to me when I watched a sports documentary with Buttercup once. ' _Tough times don't last, but tough people do_ '... I feel like that applies to you, Butch. Everything sucks today but I promise you, a few months from now, you will be back and better than ever."

Butch smiled graciously at the blond, dropping the soccer ball onto the ground. He then enveloped her in a tight hug, "Thank you, Bubs… I needed that."

"I'm glad I can help," she grinned against his chest, squeezing him tenderly. "It's the least I can do for not being there when you probably needed me the most."

"It's fine," Butch repeated as they pulled apart. "I promise. I'm pretty sure if I had more than one person swarming around me in pity that day, I would have lashed out negatively."

"Still. I don't like knowing you were alone when it all happened."

"I wasn't. Buttercup was by my side for the majority of the day," Butch shrugged.

"Buttercup?" She questioned in shock. Bubbles knew they were becoming friends after three years of conflict but she had no clue they were close enough for the dark-haired girl to dedicate her entire day to his well being.

"Yeah," Butch nodded. "She's kinda my best friend now."

" _Best friend_?" Bubbles exasperated, running a hand through her curls. "How long have I stopped paying attention to everything? Have I become so self-involved to notice this?"

"Self-involved? Bubs, you could never be self-involved."

"Are you sure? Because I didn't know or even notice the lead up to your breakup with Blossom. I have no clue about the depth of your friendship with Buttercup. I barely talk to Blossom unless it is at rehearsal. Brick is nonexistent to me since he told me that he was going to Stanford. Then Dee Dee wouldn't speak to me. I wasn't there to help you recover from your breakup," Bubbles listed quickly, panting a little from the balled up resentment she had built up within herself for neglecting her relationships.

"That's not your fault," Butch reassured. "Like I said, you're busy. _We're all busy_. We all have our own shit going on right now. Don't take it personal."

"But I… Oh my god," she whispered to herself. "I'm totally playing the victim again, aren't I?"

"I don't—"

"I'm making this all about myself," Bubbles murmured, shaking her head. "I promised myself I wouldn't do this anymore."

"How are you the victim if you think you're the problem?" Butch questioned.

"I don't… I don't know," she whined. The bags under her eyes becoming more pronounced to him as she did this. It was clear to Butch that Bubbles has barely slept in some time. "I just feel like I am."

"If you ask me, I just think you need a break."

"A break?"

"Yeah, a break," Butch nodded. "You need a break from everything you're dealing with right now. Like I was doing with soccer, find something that will take your mind off of things."

Bubbles pursed her lips in consideration, placing a hand on her hip, "I actually haven't painted anything in quite some time."

"Then go paint your extremely large, caring heart out, Bubs," Butch grinned. "Take the well deserved break you need."

"I will," she nodded, despite the frown spreading across her lips. "But it wouldn't resolve anything. I'm still going to be fixated on why everything seems so fractured lately." Bubbles slumped her shoulders, gazing down at the dewy grass under them. "How worried I am about Boomer and I."

"You're having problems?"

"Yes… and no… I don't know," the blonde sighed with exhaustion. "I haven't been completely honest with him lately and I feel awful."

"Come on, Bubbles." Butch nudged her side, attempting to get her attention but she kept her eyes down, away from him. He softened his expression as he continued on, "It's Boomer. The dude thinks the world of you. There's nothing you could do or say to him that would ruin what you have with him."

Bubbles nodded, knowing Butch was speaking only of the truth. "You're right."

"Well then, there's no need to keep—"

"I contacted my father," she muttered under her breath, catching Butch off guard. He immediately closed his mouth, shocked by the blonde's admission. "I really shouldn't be telling you this," Bubbles whispered, hugging herself. "But other than Dexter, no one else knows."

"Why Dexter?" Butch questioned, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. When did the nerdy redhead have any relevance?

"He helped me track him down," she confessed in a breath. "Dexter even found his phone number… which is how I contacted him. I reached out to him about three weeks ago and have been trying twice a week to get an answer…" Bubbles paused, wiping away the tear formulating in the corner of her eyes. "But I haven't heard anything back yet…"

"Damn Bubbles… I didn't…" Butch cleared his throat, resting his hand on her shoulder in support. This got Bubbles' attention as she stared up into his forest green eyes. He smiled weakly at her, wrapping her up again in another hug. His right hand began stroking her hair as he spoke, "You're so brave."

"I feel more naive than anything," she mumbled into his chest. "For having expectations about a person I don't even know."

"You're not being naive. Everyone does that. Hell, look at Brick and I. I expected the guy to be one of my best friends, but now, I can't stand his guts."

Bubbles chuckled lightly, pulling away from Butch, "You know, he's not that bad. He just royally messed up like us."

"Yeah right," Butch scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"His dad was murdered, Butch," Bubbles revealed. "I know Brick has been having a hard time dealing with it… and I think he's always had a rough time comprehending the abandonment he has felt his entire life. He had himself convinced that he was okay with the ordeal but deep down, he never accepted it, which allowed it to fester into resentment and confusion. That's why he doesn't talk about himself, how he feels, or anything going on with him unless he trusts a person completely."

"... So he has major daddy issues?" Butch replied after some time.

Bubbles lifted an eyebrow in acknowledgement, shrugging her shoulders, "I guess you can say that."

"It doesn't excuse whatever he has done to me," Butch argued bitterly.

"I agree. But I think you could at least understand why his apathy is prevalent."

"Whatever…" the dark-haired male dismissed. "But going back to a _pleasant_ topic, I'm not going to pressure you, but when you feel the time is right, you should tell Boomer about your dad."

Bubbles inhaled deeply, nodding in acceptance, "I know."

"Good," Butch grinned, clipping Bubbles shoulder with his hand. "Now how about we get some dinner and then you start a new art project to get your mind off of things?"

"I say that is one of the best ideas I've ever heard," Bubbles smiled.

* * *

Boomer and Buttercup leaned against a section of lockers along the outside of the courtyard. They were still in a daze and emotional raw from the information Professor Utonium dumped on them. Boomer did not even bother to follow up with any questions once the Professor was done speaking, too lost in thought to even consider it.

They had left to give the Professor and Ms. Keane a chance to say goodbye alone. Their English teacher had silently sobbed the entire time as the Professor spoke to them.

It was a maximum peak of somber emotions neither of them knew they were capable of containing.

"I can't believe…"

"Same."

"Why…"

"He told us why."

"I know… I just… wow...

"It's too much."

"I agree."

Buttercup turned to the blond next to her. He looked at her at the same time, seemingly reading her mind.

"We can't say anything," she whispered.

"I agree," Boomer nodded. "We have to respect the Professor's privacy now."

"We should have done so in the beginning," Buttercup murmured. "Coach Boogieman was right..."

Boomer reached for her hand, squeezing it in comfort. Buttercup was too emotional drained to think about pulling her hand away or how it might look to anyone who may pass by them. She simply flashed a weak smile at Boomer as a way to say thank you.

"This is just another secret for us to keep," he mumbled.

Buttercup nodded, vacantly staring out to the courtyard. One thought probing through her mind despite the jumbles it was in.

"But when will all the secrets end?"

"Time will tell."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Hey everyone!**

 **So this chapter came out _way_ later than I originally intended it to. I planned on posting this two weeks ago but I could not since I had no time to do so during my spring break. **

**For some reason, I actually had trouble writing this chapter, which caused me to go on a little hiatus. I just lost a lot of motivation for this chapter because I guess it did not excite me when I was writing it. I also edited the hell out of it, losing the original storyline I had for Butch in it (It was not a good storyline to begin with). However, I can say it is not as bad as I thought it was after I skimmed off the parts I was unsatisfied with.**

 **One feature of this chapter that I thoroughly enjoyed was the chance to let only four of the core six get the spotlight. I made the conscious effort to exclude Blossom and Brick from this chapter since they have had a part in the large part of the overall storyline happening. So this chapter was a nice, well needed little break from the chaos that is their respective storylines, in way.**

 **Lastly, for those of you who read my other story, _Falling Star_ , may already know about this but to those who do not, I have made visual elements for my stories. A few boards are not available at this time because of spoilers but the core six for this story are available to be viewed. If you are interested in checking them out, the link to them are on my profile.**

 **Like always, thank you for reading and please review!**


	21. Can't Always Get What You Want

Blossom watched with a critical eye. She observed each movement like they were under a microscope. She searched for any visable flaws.

A slip up. A fumble. A simple mistake.

However, she was pleasantly surprised.

They had finally perfected the hand jive.

And it only took three weeks to do so. It was way ahead of her scheduled teaching for the choreography of the spring musical.

When the music cut off, Blossom rose from the seat in the audience she sat in to watch. She climbed back on stage, smiling warmly at the those in front of her—Bubbles caught her eye the most as Blossom was extremely proud at her progress since she was the star of the show.

"That was perfect," Blossom praised. "As long as you all keep everything up, opening night will be a huge success."

In the group of actors, Princess leaned over to the person next to her, whispering to them, "Am I hallucinating or is Blossom actually not being a bitch for once?"

The person did not get to reply as Blossom interrupted them by continuing on, "I would also like to apologize for keeping everyone back much later than normal for the past week. I realize each of you have your own lives outside of the musical and should have been given a heads up beforehand," she finished, keeping a friendly tone throughout. She then cleared her throat, "With that said, we still have thirty minutes left for rehearsal. I don't want to dance any new choreography in such a short time-span, so you are free to go over lines or practice more dance routines until the time expires."

A few individuals on stage groaned to themselves, wishing Blossom had dismissed them for the day. The others who did not, quickly gathered within their own groups to carry out their own different tasks to prepare for the musical.

The only one who did not, was Bubbles, who rushed over to Blossom's side.

"Were you serious a minute ago or was that a clever stage trick I haven't heard about before?" the blonde asked frantically. Her blues eyes searched Blossom's face with hope and eagerness but also disbelief and uncertainty.

"I was being serious," Blossom chuckled, untying her hair from the ponytail she held it up in for rehearsal. Her long orange locks flowing freely, curving into loose ringlets—Blossom had began the habit of neglecting to use her hair straightener, finding a new appreciation for her natural hair pattern. "I think everyone has improved incredibly in the past month. Even Princess has impressed me a ton. I almost singled her out in order to praise her but she'll probably think I was trying to set her up or something."

Bubbles lifted an eyebrow, grabbing Blossom's shoulder and staring intensely into her eyes, "Did you just compliment Princess?"

The redhead arched her eyebrow. "Yeah."

"Blossom," she said dramatically, pulling the redhead closer to her. "Are you feeling alright? Do you have the flu? Or—Is Boomer right? Aliens exist and they abducted you and did science experiments on your brain? If so, blink three times. They wouldn't know."

Blossom laughed at Bubbles' reasoning, brushing her hand away gently. "I'm fine, Bubs."

"Then why are you acting so strange?"

"I'm just…" Blossom shrugged, unable to contain the smile from spreading across her face. "Really happy with where my life is right now."

"Really?" Bubbles asked in puzzlement. She then processed what Blossom said, growing in delight for her friend's happiness. "I mean, _really_? That's awesome." Blossom nodded, chuckling more at the blonde. "What—" Bubbles stopped her sentence, her eyes narrowing in confusion as the doors to the auditorium opened and Brick entered the space. "Why is Brick here?" She thought out loud.

Blossom threw a glance over her shoulder, waving and grinning affectionately at Brick—he did the same, taking a seat in the middle of the auditorium as he waited for Blossom—before turning back to Bubbles. "We have a date tonight," she said nonchalantly before shrugging, "Well, a study date but I'm still considering it a date."

"A date?" Bubbles repeated. "Wait. You're official now?"

"Yeah…" Blossom paused, glancing over to him again for a brief second. Her eyes stared at him lovingly, "We are."

Bubbles could feel the mixture of stirring emotions within herself.

One half of her wanted to be excited for Blossom. It was obvious to her now why the redhead was so happy. She did not have to hide her feelings for Brick anymore after months of keeping them in secrecy.

The other half felt pity for Butch. Once the rest of the school hears, he would be crushed. It would be another thing for him to deal with.

Bubbles did not want to choose a side to support. She did not know where her loyalties lie nor did she want to find out. Bubbles simply wanted the group to come back together again but given Butch's heartbreak, and Blossom and Brick's new coupledom, it seemed impossible for such a thing to occur at the moment.

"That's… That's great, Blossom," Bubbles mustered. She smiled weakly at the redhead, not wanting to crush her mood.

"Thank you," Blossom nodded. Her eyes shifted over to the others on the stage. "Hey everyone," she shouted calmly. "Change of plans. Rehearsal will be ending early today. Have a nice day."

Bubbles scurried beside Blossom as the redhead grabbed her workout bag behind the stage, "You're seriously ending rehearsal early? We're opening in three weeks. And on top of that, we are about to go on a three day weekend with no rehearsal time. This isn't the time to be careless."

Blossom smiled softly at the blonde, placing her hand on her shoulder, "Bubs. It's fine. We could all use a break."

"Is this really about us needing a break or is this an excuse for you to spend time with your boyfriend?" Bubbles questioned.

An over-excited gasp was heard over Bubbles' shoulder as Dee Dee and a few others who were a part of the stage production stared curiously at Blossom.

"Is that true?"

"Blossom, you're dating Brick?"

"Oh my god, if you are. I'm totally so jealous."

Blossom smiled sheepishly at the girls, nodding to their questions.

"We are."

"Oh my god!" They squealed in unison, causing Blossom and Bubbles to cringe at the high pitch of their voices.

"I totally have to text everyone now," one of the girls announced running behind the stage to grab her bag containing her phone as the others followed behind her.

"Uh… sorry about that," Bubbles coughed, rubbing the back of her neck.

"It's fine. They were going to find out eventually. But it does end the nice stage of where it's just Brick and I caring about our relationship," Blossom shrugged, sighing a little before getting back to her upbeat nature from earlier. "And to answer your question, I spend time with Brick everyday, so it's not any excuse, Bubs. I honestly think everyone has been putting in an extraordinary amount of work into this play. You all deserve a little break. _Especially you_. I haven't seen you this tense since freshman year when you convinced yourself Boomer was not interested in you."

"Yeah…" Bubbles laughed halfheartedly, wrapping her arms around herself.

"I hope you make good with your free time," Blossom beamed. The redhead then turned on her heels to walk down to the audience section of the auditorium, finding herself in Brick's arms.

Bubbles watched as the newly established couple kissed each other tenderly before leaving the space with their hands held. The smiles on their faces were what stood out the most to the blonde.

They were in a true blissful state of happiness. It was the same shape Boomer and her were in for the betterment of the first year they were a couple.

Bubbles never realized it but she missed that stage of a relationship. When a person was blind to everything but their significant other. It was intoxicating and mushy but there was never a moment where Bubbles was unhappy.

It was not that she was not pleased with her relationship with Boomer. It was that Bubbles has become more aware of the lingering problems they have put off for an unknown length of time now.

She was insecure about losing him to Dee Dee. They were codependent on each other, never seeming to be able to make a decision without the other's input or preferring each other's company over them branching out and making new friends. His decision not to attend college was not a huge deal to her but Bubbles did have a few reserves she has yet to make public to him about it.

Then there was the fact she has yet to tell him about her dad, who she still has not heard from.

The lack of response was the very reason she was dissatisfied by Blossom excusing rehearsal early. The blonde did not want any extra time to stew over the mystery of her dad.

Even after her conversation with Butch a week ago and attempting to distract herself with diving back into her artwork, Bubbles could not get her mind off of her paternal figure. This resulted in her making, perhaps, the most depressing image of a monochromatic owl she has ever seen. The bird's eyes widened with fear and the appearance of water welding up within it.

Despite not wanting to accept it, Bubbles reluctantly went backstage again to collect her bag after everyone left. She pulled her phone out from one of the pockets of her backpack, with the idea of calling Boomer. If Brick was out of swim practice, then Boomer was too, which meant they could hang out together for once in the past couple of months.

When Bubbles tapped on her screen, she took noticed to a text message notification from an unidentified number.

However, she knew this number by heart because it was the same number she had called in hopes of finding her father.

 _Do not call this number again._

Bubbles re-read the six words over and over again. She blinked back the tears formulating in her eyes. Her hands began to shake uncontrollably as the blonde sunk down to the floor. She wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging herself in comfort from the disappointment the single text message produced.

She could not believe how stupid she was. To think her dad would want anything to do with her after all this time. There was a reason why he was never in her life.

And now, Bubbles knew she would never have the chance to meet him.

* * *

Buttercup grumbled silently to herself as the lead in her pencil broke. She was three problems away from finishing her Trigonometry homework and simply wanted to get it over with immediately. The dark-haired girl huffed out hot air, searching for another pencil in her desk but had no lucky. She then eyed the pencil holder on Blossom's desk containing various pencils, pens, and highlighters. Buttercup shrugged to herself, deciding Blossom would not even notice if a pencil went missing.

She rose from her desk, stepping one foot out when her phone notified her of an incoming text message. Buttercup swiftly sat back down, reaching out for her phone and reading the words on her screen.

It was from Dee Dee.

 _So Blossom and Brick are a couple now?_

"Fuck," she muttered. Her fingers typed furiously across her screen but not to response back to Dee Dee.

Buttercup placed the phone against her ear, waiting for the other line to pick up.

On the third ring, she heard a groggy, deep voice greet her.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Butch… um… Dee Dee just texted me and I wanted you to know before—"

"I already know," he sighed into the receiver. Buttercup pictured him running a hand through his thick curls. His eyes glazed over with a seemingly incurable sadness. She just wanted to hug him—as a supportive friend would, she told herself before dismissing the idea and focusing her attention back into the conversation. "A few guys on my floor asked me about it when I was getting my mail."

"I'm so sorry, Butch," she whispered.

"It's fine." It was not fine, and she knew he was lying to her about it. However, Buttercup was going to let it slide because Butch was going through enough shit as it already was. "They were bound to get together, anyways… I just didn't think it would be so soon," he mumbled.

Buttercup could hear the physical heartbreak in his tone. She frowned at this fact.

She wanted to give him a good shake to wake him up. She wanted to explain to him that Blossom was not the only girl in the world and he could fall in love again.

She just wanted him to be better again.

To be his improved self again.

His damaged soul was slowly breaking her heart out of pity for him. She wanted to help fix him because Buttercup believed it was her duty as his best friend to do so but how was she going to do that if he did not seem to be trying himself to get over Blossom?

"Hey," she said uneasily, clearing her throat. "Do you want to do something? Get your mind off of everything?"

"Nah. I think I'm going to just focus on soccer right now. It's the only thing I can dependent on lately."

Buttercup wanted to blurt out that he could depend on her anytime but instead, she said, "Oh… Okay… I'll talk to you later."

She did not wait for Butch to response as she hung up the phone.

Buttercup folded her arms, lounging back into her desk chair more. Her mind unable to comprehend the hollow emotion within herself and why she felt an inexpiable anguish when her mind traveled to anything about Butch.

Perhaps, out of everything Buttercup wanted, she wanted to know was, why could she not stop thinking about Butch for the past couple of months?

* * *

Boomer entered the auditorium with confusion struck across his face. He had heard around campus about rehearsal for the musical getting out early, to which he grew excited about because it brought about the thought of finally having time to spend with Bubbles. The blond had also asked if anyone had any idea where Bubbles went after rehearsal.

He was met by the response that his girlfriend had not left the auditorium from everyone's knowledge, leading him to check out the very space.

The blond was stumped to find Bubbles to be nowhere in sight. His eyes searched across the stage for her presence but came up with disappointing results.

Boomer was about to exit the space when his ears perked up to a distinctive muffled sound from behind the velvet stage curtain—thanks to the acoustics of the auditorium, he was able to hear whatever the noise was, even if it was faint. He hesitantly approached the stage, climbing up the platform, and going in the direction of the noise.

It had come from the very person he was looking for.

With his ocean blue eyes weakened with a heart full of sadness, Boomer instantly rushed over to Bubbles' side, having found her on the ground, sobbing to herself. His arms wrapped tightly around her. He whispered against her golden curls, attempting to soothe her.

"What happened, love?" He asked softly. His voice tender and fragile. Boomer was afraid to break her even more with choosing his words wrongly or having an inappropriate tone. All he wanted to do at the moment was to help make Bubbles stop crying and feel better.

Bubbles briefly smiled at him weakly, wiping a tear away but did not help to remove any of the others that stained her cheeks. "I… I made the mistake of contacting my dad," she revealed, her voice trembling along with her words. Her body grew lighter with the confession but was still weighed down by her heavy-heart. "And he doesn't want to meet me… I don't know what I was thinking. I would have just annoyed him to death… Or I'm probably not good enough to be his daughter."

"That's bullshit," Boomer scoffed. He squeezed Bubbles a little more tighter as he spoke, "You're the sweetest, most kindest person ever. It's his loss for not even attempting to meet you."

"Thanks, Boom," Bubbles breathed. She ran her hand through his shaggy blond hair, tucking a strand behind his ear. Her eyes brimmed their own oceans as she stared into his. "I know you're trying to comfort me and everything, and I really appreciate it, but I think I'm going to be sad about this for awhile."

Boomer nodded with understanding, pulling her head into his chest as they sat on the floor in silence. Bubbles listened attentively to Boomer's heartbeat, focusing her thoughts on the rhythm than her dad, while Boomer was stewing in his own thoughts.

He understood Bubbles needed time. He believed that was the smart decision for her.

However, Boomer was crestfallen by her decision. As her boyfriend, he felt it was his responsibility to cheer Bubbles up and help fix her problems.

He did not want her to be sad about her dad anymore. Boomer was going to find a solution to the situation no matter what the cost was because that was what he felt was the right thing for him to do.

* * *

"Well if it isn't my incredibly beautiful and lovely girlfriend?" Brick smirked as he approached Blossom's locker. His arms instantly wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to him.

She enveloped her arms around his neck, a playful smile spreading across her lips, "You're excited to be public, aren't you?"

"I mean..." He chuckled lightly. "It is nice for everyone to know that you're mine."

"And you are mine," Blossom whispered softly, closing the distance between the two.

As the couple attempted to deepen the kiss, Brick had strange feeling of being watched. He reluctantly pulled away, his crimson eyes narrowing in frustration from having the correct assumption.

Two of his classmates who he did not recognize stood on the other side of the hall, observing him and Blossom nervously.

"Can I help you?" He asked harshly.

"What… I… oh my god, he acknowledged me," a blonde squealed to her friend after stumbling with her response. She closed her eyes suddenly, taking in a deep breath. "Be cool. Be cool. Be cool…" She opened her eyes again, smiling nervously at the couple. "Um, we just wanted to say you're a beautiful couple."

Blossom smiled at the girls and then at Brick, snuggling her head against his firm, muscular chest, "Thank you."

"Oh god," the blonde's friend squeaked. "Blossom just spoke to us. This is the best day ever!"

The blonde nodded, squealing again with her friend before being yelled at by a nearby teacher. Due to this response, the two ran off down the hall in another direction.

Brick rolled his eyes, "You know, I like not having to sneak around anymore and getting to publicly call you my girlfriend, but I don't like the other shit that comes with it."

"Like what?"

"Whatever that was," he grumbled. "Or how about last night when literally everyone interrupted us when we were studying for our Chemistry exam."

Blossom laughed softly, lifting her head from his chest, "Brick, it's not like you aren't going to ace the exam."

"That's not the point."

"I know," Blossom smiled with amusement.

Brick sighed, studying Blossom's face, "Is it always going to be like this? Is everyone going to insert themselves into our relationship?"

"Unfortunately," Blossom nodded. "It's one of the many cons of dating me."

"It is the only con of dating you," Brick challenged as his massaged his hands into her hips.

"You're too sweet to me."

"How can I not?" He teased, flicking a few hairs of her bangs out of her eyes. "But I'm serious. I don't like them attempting to insert themselves into our business. It's annoying as shit and I don't want my time spent with you interrupted."

"Come on, Brick. We had almost a month of privacy. A few weeks of endearing everyone's gawking wouldn't be too bad. You've faced much worst. Plus, I think it's kind of cute," she grinned, picking herself up on her tippy-toes. "We do make a beautiful couple."

"Yeah, because of you."

"Cut yourself some slack, pretty boy."

"Maybe…" he whispered against her lips before kissing her softly.

"Hey Blossom, I—Oh um…"

Brick groaned loudly, pulling away from Blossom again, dropping his hands to his sides, only to find Boomer standing next to them, flustered by having seen the redheads' in an embrace.

Blossom chuckled lightly at Brick frustration before turning to Boomer, speaking in a calm and friendly tone, "Yes, Boom?"

Boomer tossed his eyes between the two. His stomach clenched with unease.

He was outright lied to by Brick.

After last week's chat with Buttercup, Boomer knew of the truth about them but seeing Brick and Blossom kissing in the hallway, made the distrust he had for them more of a reality.

The tough part for the blond was the decision to remain mum for Butch's sake. He rather the dark-haired male continue his stability than worry about Blossom. They only had three more months of schooling. Once they were done, Butch would not have to be in the redheads' presences anymore nor have any lingering thoughts about them.

At least, that was what Boomer hoped for. It was the singular way the blond kept his mind at peace during the night.

It was how he did not let the guilt of the secret he withheld from consuming and destroying him.

In regards to the redheads, Boomer was utterly conflicted. He still wanted their friendship. Boomer still wanted to believe they were good people, but they were sadly proving otherwise each and every time.

But he was not going to give up on them. Boomer would give them nth chances to better themselves because change was never a simple and linear process. It would take time, and he believed the redheads would figure it out eventually.

Again, at least, that was what Boomer hoped for.

Boomer blinked to himself, forcing a cool smile on his face. "I was wondering if you could help me out with financing something?"

Blossom studied him, pondering over his question before shrugging her shoulders and nodding. A wide grin on her face as she spoke, "How much do you need?"

"I should tell you—Wait, what?" Boomer fumbled. "You're not going to ask me what it is that I need the money for? Or give me the tenth degree about how you don't want to spend your father's money on something fruitless?"

"No, I wouldn't," Blossom answered. "Besides, I have way too much money anyways. I would rather spend it helping my friends than letting it go to waste."

"Are you sure?" Boomer questioned again in shock.

"Yeah, definitely. Just stop by my room tonight and I'll write you a check for whatever you need."

"Wow, I… I don't know what to say," Boomer mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. "I… thank you. I appreciate it."

"Anything for a good friend," Blossom smiled.

Boomer stared at Blossom for a few seconds, baffled by her behavior. Her surprising and odd behavior.

Perhaps, she would not need that many more chances to improve herself, after all.

"Right…" Boomer nodded before excusing himself from the couple and heading down the hall with the rest of their classmates hurrying off to their next class.

"That was… strange," Brick announced, furrowing his eyebrows.

"It's Boomer. Everything is strange with him," Blossom countered. "It's a part of his charm."

"You're not wrong," he smirked.

"Thank you," Blossom smiled, bringing herself close to Brick again. Her hands cupped the sides of his face. "And thank you for attempting to be patient with all the interruptions." She lightly brushed her thumb against the corner of his lips. Her eyes studied him through her eyelashes, "I'm sorry I can't make your first relationship experience smoother than everyone else's. I know it's hard to be with me and—

"Hey," Brick interrupted. "I'm the one who wanted this. I rather go through millions of speed bumps with you than be with anyone else—which is probably why you're my first girlfriend."

Blossom smiled softly before sighing lightly, "God, Brick. You always have the right thing to say to reassure me."

"It's the least I can do," he murmured as placed his hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer.

He inched closer, feeling her warm breath against his lips, when the bell rang above them, alerting the couple that they should be in class at the moment.

Brick inhaled and exhaled deeply as Blossom pulled away, giggling, "Can I ever catch a break?"

"Save it for later, babe. We have to get to class."

"Fine," he groaned, following her down the hall. "But we will make up for all of this."

* * *

When the bell struck for lunch, Buttercup knew the exact location to where she would lead herself. She weaved through the crowds of her classmates, her eyes focused steadily. A weak smile tugged on her lips when she found herself at Butch's side.

The place she was determined to be at since the beginning of the school day.

She wanted to be at his side to ensure he was okay. She wanted to provide him a distraction if Blossom and Brick popped up unexpectedly.

"Hey," she greeted, catching him off guard. Once he realized it was Buttercup, he smiled meekly at her in acknowledgement. "How have things been?"

"Okay."

"Are you sure?"

Butch rolled his eyes, his pleasant expression fading away in annoyance. "Yes," he said firmly, throwing his eyes anywhere that was not the green-eyed girl.

"Butch," she sighed. "I'm sorry I just—"

She jumped back, startled from finishing her sentence. Her eyes went to where the loud noise came from.

Caramel-colored soda streamed down Butch's right hand. The artificial sugared drink formed a puddle at his feet. The tin can crushed by his firm grip. The carbonated gas fizzed in the air until reaching a halting silence.

Buttercup glanced up to Butch, finding his attention to be somewhere else. His view entirely focused on Blossom across the courtyard again. Her hand curled around Brick's bicep as they spoke closely to each other.

They appeared radiant. Utterly consumed by the warmth they brought to each other.

It was the most unabashedly happy Buttercup had ever seen Blossom—Brick too, she realized.

Butch's reaction was appropriate, Buttercup determined. It was created solely out of heartbreak.

Out of disrespect.

Most of all, it was created out of self deprecation for not being able to enact such a mood out of Blossom.

"Butch," Buttercup said cautiously. Her fingers lightly brushed against his forearm, gaining his attention. His eyebrows furrowed in emotion, forest green eyes glassed over with sorrow and rage. "You're not okay."

"I'm fine," he said through his teeth.

His eyes flashed over to the redheads' again for a brief second. The can crackled faintly some more.

"No, you're not. We should get out of here," she advised. "How about lunch off campus? Or—"

"No."

Buttercup frowned at his answer. She retreated her touch from his arm, "Why not?"

Butch chuckled darkly to himself, narrowing his eyes at her. "No offense, but I don't want to be around you when all you're going to do is smother me."

"I—"

Buttercup blinked back in shock. She had not predicted his reaction. Her chest swelled up in a heaviness. She felt suffocated. The wind seemingly knocked out of her.

Her face contorted indignantly from finally processing what was being said. He did not want her help. He did not need her.

He found her to be a nuisance.

The same person who claimed she was his best friend and was seemingly grateful that she was the only one who was there for him when things went to shit, was now pushing her away.

Buttercup could feel her thoughts mocking her. Telling her this was the exact reason why she never got close to anyone. To not fully invest herself and care about someone wholeheartedly because it would only lead to disappointment.

She looked weak and she felt humiliated.

She was a fool in her mind. A fool to ever think she could be friends with Butch.

"Fine," she seethed. "I'll leave you alone. And while I do that, I would want nothing more than for you to do the same." Buttercup eyed him up and down, staring at him in utter disappointment. "I don't want to waste my time with someone who is so ungrateful."

"Fine," he grunted.

They stared each other down for a good second. Each waiting for the other to speak up. To say something to ensure this was not going to be turned into a big deal but neither did.

Buttercup sighed greatly, turning on her heels and disappeared within the lunch crowd of the courtyard.

It was not until she was out of sight, did Butch realize the mistake he made in how he spoke to her. The instant regret surged throughout his body as did the want to rush after her to apologize.

He was going to run after her. He was going to tell her how much he was in-debt to her because of her friendship.

He wanted to tell her how much he needed her.

Butch did not, however.

His mind got distracted again when his eyes accidentally landed on Blossom and Brick again. His temper clouding his mind once more as he seethed at the very sight of them, wondering what they were speaking of and mocking them with his thoughts.

There was nothing more he wanted than to see them apart. For Blossom to realize the mistake she made.

The fact of her not coming to her senses yet, irritated him. It made his blood boil with no end in reach.

His angry slowly crept back up on him. His mind disregarding any teachings he had learned in therapy.

The problem was, Butch wanted to be angry. He had every right to be. Therefore, he was going to use this anger until he saw not to.

However, in this decision, he simply forgot how much he loathed the rage-full person he used to be. A notion he did not remember as he continued to simmer throughout his lunch period.

The fury crawled through his cracked foundation, ingesting him into a cloud full of wrath and despair.

* * *

It was the first men's soccer game of the season. Townsville Academy was facing off against Centerville High.

The game plan for the team was to play conservative since it was the first game of the season and the coach did not want to risk anyone getting injured so early. This notion fell onto deaf ears in regards of Butch as his mind was a thunderstorm within him. His wrath guiding his conscious.

As the regulation period played on, it was clear to anyone observing the game that Butch discarded his coach's advice. His game play becoming overly aggressive. He had tripped up five different players with no concern for their well being. One even had to exit the game after twisting his ankle in the gnarliest way.

It was not until he knocked an opposing player square in the shoulder when they did not even have him in their plane of view, did Butch have to deal with the repercussions of his rough and uncalled for playing style.

The referee near him pulled out a yellow card from his back pocket, cautioning Butch to calm down.

The dark-haired male grew more outraged by the action, stepping up to argue with the referee when he heard another blow of a whistle. It was the end of the first period.

Butch rolled his eyes, jogging over to the bench where his coach berated him for not behaving like a team player nor as a leader—a position he should be committed to as he was team captain for the season. Once his coach finished ranting, Butch merely agreed to what he said under his breath. He then went to grab a water bottle, leaning against the bench provided for the team.

"Butch, you need to get your head out of your ass."

Butch furrowed his eyebrows, surprised to find Buttercup glaring down at him from the stands behind him. The heavy rage around him evaporating into the air as he remembered how things ended with them earlier in the day.

How he needed to apologize to her.

"You came," he said in astonishment. Butch immediately grimace to himself for that being the first thing he had said to her but he could not hide his surprised nature. He figured she hated him again and would not want to be anywhere near him. It was certainly what they agreed upon when parting.

"Of course I came," she dismissed. "I never miss a soccer match."

"Yeah, I…" Butch paused, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. His hand absorbing the dew of sweat from his skin. "Look, Buttercup. I just want to say I'm sorry. I should—"

"I don't care," she interjected. Her eyes stared off in the distance as she said this. She was unable to meet his eyes when trying to convey a lie.

"But—"

"I'm only talking to you, to tell you to get your shit together before you get ejected. This isn't the place to get your anger out nor should you be out to injury someone in the process."

Butch remained mum, searching for anything to say as his eyes danced across her face. When it finally came to him, the whistle sounded behind him. The second period was about to begin. He groaned to himself, placing his water bottle on the bench and jogging back to the field without saying a word to Buttercup.

Buttercup watched on, ignoring the longing in her chest for him. The confusing and distasteful longing she did not want nor understood. She returned to sit on the bleachers in desolation, not aware of who exactly she sat next to. A wicked smile spreading across their face as they tucked a red curl behind their ear.

"How is he?"

Buttercup escaped her dejected mood when greeted by a nasally voice. Her mind confused by her concern as she narrowed her eyes at Princess.

"And why would you be asking?" She questioned with a slight degree of venom. "More important, why are you even here?"

"To answer both, Butch and I are close acquaintances now," the redhead shrugged. "So I thought I should show him my support."

"Yeah, right," Buttercup chuckled off sarcastically. "And you also don't have an ulterior motive towards Butch, right? This isn't a chance to get revenge on _you know who_ by trying to get with Butch?"

"It is not," she replied firmly. "Butch and I would never work out. We're too over-emotional to function properly together. Too sensitive, I suppose."

"You're sensitive?"

"Yes, I am," Princess scoffed, glaring at the dark-haired girl before flicking a piece of lint off of her miniskirt. "But I also think Butch is in no shape to be with anyone at the moment."

"Yeah…" Buttercup mumbled. A sense of unmistakable sorrow washed over her despite not having the slightest clue as to why.

"He's not taking it very well, I see."

"That is the understatement of the year."

"She is the fucking worst," Princess seethed. Her hands balled up in tight fists at her sides. The sharp edges of her freshly manicured nails dug into her skin. "She gets away with publicly humiliating him and breaking his heart, but on top of that, everyone accepts her relationship with Brick despite the short time-span allotted to make it look decent… Everyone here is absolutely a fucking moron."

"I couldn't agree more."

"I know you wouldn't confirm anything but I firmly believe she cheated on Butch." Buttercup stiffened, keeping her eyes on the soccer game in front of her. "And I would spread the idea around school but I know it would fuck Butch up even more since I've already had conversations with him about the subject. He's still in total and utter denial."

"How gracious of you," Buttercup deadpanned.

Princess eyed her attentively. She studied for any cracks in Buttercup's poker face but found none.

"But I still find it unfair how she got out of this without any consequences other than cleaning a basement."

Buttercup shrugged off Princess' comment, "That's what happens when you grow up privileged… You should be well-acquainted in that subject matter."

"You don't think I have to deal with the consequences of my actions?" Princess scoffed. "Because of my drunken mistake from last year, Daddy took away ten percent of my shares in his company. Not to mention, he wouldn't allow me to be around his business associates anymore, which technically means, I'm not even allowed to step foot in five of our ten properties."

"Tragic."

"It truly is," Princess snarled. "With regular parents, you simply get a slap on the wrist and a good scowling. They say that they're disappointed in you but you are your own person. You don't have to carry your name around like a hazard. Us, rich kids, we have to deal with a shit ton of backlash from our parents. Lasting effects. We could be cut out of our family fortunes if we make the slightest wrong step. The ever pressing pressure to behave a certain way because you're the future of your family name… All from parents who opted to have nannies around twenty-four seven and didn't even bother to raise us."

"Huh… No wonder Blossom fears her parents," Buttercup thought out aloud.

"Blossom is afraid of her parents?" Princess questioned eagerly, seizing the opportunity of the slip up.

Buttercup considered whether she should answer. Blossom's family issue has been a well kept secret for the betterment of the last four years. If Princess got any further knowledge on the topic, who knows what the redhead may do.

Her eyes found themselves settled onto Butch. He was still playing aggressively. She knew the very reason he was losing himself in the game was because of Blossom. Because of her new relationship and lack of being honest with Butch.

It was her frustrations towards Blossom in which overloaded over the past months, that caused her to reply.

"Blossom cannot do anything if parents disapproved of something. She is basically their lap dog… a broken and wounded lap dog."

"Interesting," Princess smirked, growing satisfied with the new information. Her mind formulating plans of revenge towards Blossom—but also Brick. A light bulb flashed in her mind when the perfect idea popped up. "You know, if her parents did not like—"

Princess was unable to finish her sentence as a whistle in the distance cut her off. The two turned their attention to the field, finding a player from Centerville coddling his knee while fighting back tears. The referee waved a red card in the air as the athletic trainer from Centerville attended to their fallen player. An outraged Butch was engaged in a shouting match with the referee, having to be pulled away by his teammates.

"Oh no," Buttercup breathed.

Butch getting ejected was one of the worst things that could have happened. It could jeopardize his chances at the soccer scholarship they were both vying for. Not to mention, the disappointment Butch must feel about himself would be another added layer to his misguided mind.

She watched as he left the field in disgrace, heading into the locker room with his head down. Buttercup felt her chest swell up, distraught be the events happening to him. Even if she was mad at him, she still wanted to be there for him. It was like a habit now. To help Butch in this rough patch he was experiencing.

Her mind raced with plausible ways to help him move on. To be happy again.

But she knew if Butch was still in his wrathful mindset he was currently in, there was no getting through to him. With that, Buttercup brainstormed solutions for his angry. The loudest answer did not come from her but from a piece advice she was given once by Boomer.

Without a word, Buttercup rose from her seat on the bleachers and went straight to the locker rooms. Her back pressed against the wall of the building as she waited patiently for Butch to exit.

It took twenty long minutes for Butch to withdraw himself from inside the room. His curls dripping wet from taking a shower in the time. Water droplets falling upon his forehead as his eyes widened in shock to find Buttercup by the door.

His expression immediately shifted to shame and also regret.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. His eyes lined straight to his sneakers. "I fucked up… and I'm not just talking about the game. I was a complete and utter dick to you today and you didn't deserve any of it. I just…" He slowly but surely met her gaze. Sincerity reflected intensely off of his forest green eyes, "You're the best part of my day, B. And I'm sorry for making you feel like you're not important to me because you are very important to me. _Tremendously important_. And… I can't say how much I appreciate how much you have done for me in the past few weeks. You've done nothing but be there for me, so how I acted was unacceptable."

Buttercup let his words hang in the air. Each word resonating with her deeply. However, the sentence that got her the most was, " _You're the best part of my day_ ". For whatever reason, Buttercup felt her stomach complete multiple somersaults, unable to contain itself. She felt as if she was going to puke but she was not going to let Butch know that as she did not even know why she felt this way.

"Okay," she said softly.

Butch blinked at her in confusion. "That's all you have to say? Nothing about how much of an asshole I am? Or how if I ever cross you like again that you'll cut off my dick"

"Yeah, no," Buttercup chuckled. "I know you're being sincere with your apology, so you're good…" She shifted her weight, rubbing her arm awkwardly. Her eyes gazed out to the horizon of the soccer game that continued to be played. "Besides, I can't seem to stay mad at you anymore."

Butch grinned brightly at her confession, clipping his hand onto her shoulder affectionately, "What the hell happened to us?"

"We grew up."

"I don't feel like I have," Butch frowned, removing his hand from her to run it through his drenched hair. "I feel like I have regressed back to how I was when I was twelve."

"You might have," Buttercup nodded. "But that's not your fault."

"It is. I'm letting… _them_ get to me."

"It was going to happen," she shrugged. "It was expected that you would fall off a little when things progressed more between them but the real test is if you keep yourself in this head space or you take the time to help yourself."

"I want to help myself but I don't know how to," he sighed dejectedly. "I've tried the school counselor but she is more better equipped at handling the grieving process than anger management."

"Well, lucky for you, I might have a way to help you," Buttercup teased with a grin.

Butch arched an eyebrow, matching her expression, "You do?"

"I do… but we will have to go to Boomer's dorm first."

* * *

"That's a wrap for the weekend," Blossom announced to the stage of actors. "I hope you have a great three day weekend and a much needed break."

She watched as the crowd dispersed into their own directions, petering out with various conversations among them. None of them approaching her on their way out except one.

"Is Princess going to be in trouble for skipping out again?" Bubbles questioned curiously as Blossom grabbed her bag.

"I'll have to discuss things with Ms. Sedusa but I doubt it," she shrugged off. "She'll just have to stay for an extra hour on Tuesday."

"Oh… okay."

"It's not a problem, Bubs," Blossom smiled reassuringly. "We'll be fine. So don't worry about it."

"Okay," the blonde mumbled. She stared at Blossom in silence as the redhead waited to see if she was going to say anything else to her. Bubbles cleared her throat, adjusting the strap of her bag, "Are… are you doing anything tonight? We could get something to eat for old times sake."

Bubbles hoped Blossom would agree. She wanted a distraction from the lingering thoughts about her father and his rejection.

"I would love to but Brick is surprising me with something tonight…"

"Oh," she breathed. The sorrowful response flashed across her face for a brief second before she forced a friendly smile. "Well, I will not stop you from that."

"Thanks, Bubs," Blossom beamed. "Maybe we could hang out next week?"

"Yeah, maybe," the blonde sighed discouragingly. She was not looking forward to the long weekend because it meant there was more time on her hands to wonder about her dad. The inescapable sadness over the situation would prison her for three straight days. Bubbles simply hoped the days would go by fast instead of being painfully slow.

* * *

"Buttercup, what a pleasant surprise," Dexter greeted when opening the door to his dorm. His eyes crossed over to her companion. "Butch," he disgruntled before focusing his attention back to Buttercup. "What brings you here?"

"I'm cashing in on the offer you made during New Year's," she explained. "Butch and I need to blow off some steam."

Dexter pursed his lips in thought, tapping his foot below them, "Does Butch really need to?"

Butch lunged forward, attempting to get in Dexter's face, "Listen here dork—"

Buttercup cut Butch off, restricting him from moving forward towards the redhead with a stiff arm, pushing him behind her. She glared at him for a brief second before doing the same to Dexter.

"Yes, he does," she said through her teeth. "I know you are not the best of friends, but can you put your differences aside for once? For me, at least?"

"Fine," they both muttered under their breath in unison.

"Great," Buttercup smirked. "So are we allowed entry?"

"Yes," Dexter groaned, stepping aside and allowed the dark-haired pair into his room. The redhead then went to his shared closet with Boomer, shuffling through various items in search of a particular gaming system.

"Why are we here exactly?" Butch whispered to Buttercup. His towering frame brushed up against her side.

Buttercup grinned at him, "We're here because we are going to play violent video games until four in the morning to get your penned up aggression out."

"And you think that's going to work?" Butch snorted.

"I do," she nodded. "It helped me get through my breakup with Mitch. And look at me, I haven't thought about snapping his neck since New Year's."

Butch sighed in defeat, rubbing his chin in thought, "That is an impressive feat."

"So are you willingly to try?"

"I mean, I'll never pass on the opportunity to slack off and play video games but do I think this will work for me? No," he admitted to a disappointed Buttercup. "But I do appreciate the effort. So thank you."

"Doesn't feel like I'm smothering you?" She quipped, arching an eyebrow in challenge.

Butch chuckled to himself, "Oh, I knew I was going to regret saying that." He met her eyes, memorizing the vivid hue of electric green they were. "If I'm going to be honest, I kind of like it when you smother me—that is, if I'm not in a mood." He shrugged his shoulders, continuing, "To me, it shows you care about me. It's something not a lot people tend to do. So yeah… smother me all you want."

"Oh, um…" Buttercup fumbled. Her cheeks grew in an intense heat from his words. She quickly looked down to their feet, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'll only smother you when you need it. So then you don't get too used to me handling everything for you. You are your own person, after all."

Butch pretended to groan, stomping his feet a little like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum would, "But I like it when you do everything for me."

"That's too bad," she laughed lightly, meeting his gaze again. Her eyes flashed a hint of her competitiveness, "But I will kick your ass in whatever Dexter has in store for us."

"Oh, you are so on, B," he challenged, a lively smile spreading across his lips. It was the first time Butch has enjoyed himself since finding out about Blossom and Brick's coupledom. He could not help noticing how Buttercup's help was the exact break he wanted.

Her friendship was exactly what he needed.

* * *

When coming back from rehearsal, Bubbles was surprised to find Boomer sitting on the ground by her door. His attention focused on his phone as he waited for her.

"Boomer?" She said when she stood in front of him.

Boomer quickly rose to his feet, wiping the back of his pants from sitting on the ground. "Hey."

"Not that I'm not happy to see you, but why are you here?" She asked cautiously, eyeing him suspiciously. Boomer was one to be spontaneous but not with her. She was the one person he did not keep secrets from—or at least, she hoped so.

"So I may have constructed the most ridiculous plan ever but I just couldn't sit here and watch you be so upset lately," He began, running a hand through his shaggy blond hair.

"What do you mean?" Bubbles said quietly. Her entire body stiffened at the mention of her being upset.

Boomer took in a deep breath and exhaled soundly before explaining himself, "I may have asked Blossom for a check to rent out a van for us, so we can drive to San Mateo to meet your dad. He can't ignore you if you're knocking at his doorstep, now can he?" He finished.

Boomer smiled at her for reassurance but was not met with the response he thought he would get. Instead Bubbles stared down at her hands.

"We can't," she breathed. "It's too crazy—"

"It's a three day weekend," Boomer pointed out. "You have no rehearsal for once. I already cashed in the check for the van. Plus, I made a playlist for the drive. All we need is your okay."

Bubbles wanted to say yes. She knew this was too much of perfect timing to say no. Her heart shouted the loudest for her to agree.

But her mind.

Her mind wanted nothing to do with it. She did not want to go all the way to San Mateo to simply be shut out by her dad. His text message was enough to prove he did not want to meet her.

Bubbles opened her mouth to reply but stopped herself short when she took in the hopefulness in Boomer's expression. She melted at the thought of realizing how much trouble he went into doing this for her. How much he wanted her to be happy. How could she possibly say no to the sweetest person she has ever known?

"Let's do it," she grinned, taking his hands and entwining her's with them.

"Are you sure?" He questioned, leaning his forehead against her's.

"One hundred percent."

"Then let's go find your dad, Bubs."

* * *

Blossom could not help not hiding the gleeful smile rising on her lips once she saw Brick approach her. She had been sitting on a bench in front of his residence hall, waiting for him and his surprise for her.

She quickly went to him, enveloping him in her arms as she greeted him with a kiss. His mouth turned upward as they pulled apart.

"So what do you have in stored for me?" Blossom asked him softly.

"I wouldn't say," he teased. "But I can show you." His hand retreated from where it rested on her hip, digging in his pocket as he pulled out a black cloth. "However, I will need you to put this on first."

Blossom arched an eyebrow at the cloth, "A blindfold?"

"Yup."

She sighed quietly, removing her arms from around him and turning around. He placed her hair to the side, his fingertips lightly brushing up against her skin.

"You better not be planning to murder me," she quipped as he tied the blindfold together.

"I could never," he replied, placing a tender kiss on her shoulder before take her hand into his.

Blossom smiled softly at his affections, following his lead blindly. A cool early March breeze hitting her skin as they walked for what seemed like a large distance to her.

After some time, Brick paused in his steps, dropping his hold on Blossom's hand.

"You can take off your blindfold," he murmured. A hint of apprehension in his tone as she untied the cloth.

Her eyes danced across the setting before them. They were on the football field, which was completely empty other than them. A red blanket was spread across mid-field with a variety of plastic, ivory candles; which ran on batteries, ranging from different heights circled around the linen. Another blanket was folded perfectly in the left corner. There was also a fresh bouquet of pink roses on the center of the blanket.

"Brick…" she breathed. The flickering of the artificial flames from the candles illuminated her eyes into a soft medley of amber and blush.

"I know it's not much," he said sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I wanted to take you out somewhere nice but I didn't have enough money to afford anything that I felt was good enough for you, so I improvised. Which I'm now seeing, was an awful idea. I just…" He groaned, rubbing his eyes in frustration at himself. "I'm happy we don't have to hide anymore but I also wanted to make sure we will still have some private moments together because a part of me is terrified we wouldn't anymore. But apparently big romantic gestures are not my thing."

Brick could feel his hands being prided away from his face as Blossom took them into hers'. Her small, delicate hands contrasting against his long, strong palms.

"No," she whispered, nuzzling closer to him. "I love this."

"You do?" He questioned, unconvinced by her notion. "Are you just saying that because you feel bad?"

"I'm not," Blossom answered softly. "I like this way more than going out on a fancy, over extravagant date that probably was going to cost you a good amount of money." Her thumbs began rubbing the skin on the back of his hand. "I know and understand your situation, Brick. So don't ever feel pressured to spend money on me. I have had plenty of experiences that involved extreme amounts of money spent and none of them have ever brought me happiness… But getting to spend time with you? That's more than I could ever want or need."

Brick gently bumped his forehead against her's, "I guess I'm just getting insecure for once. Planning dates and navigating relationships are uncharted territory for me. Not knowing what to expect, is kind of unsettling to me. Especially when I'm starting out with a girl I'm absolutely crazy about."

Blossom expressed a giddy smile as she spoke to him, "With me, you don't have worry, okay? With us, I don't want to feel like we have to pressure ourselves to behave a certain way. I like you, _for you_. Inexperience and all because this is new for me too. I haven't been this happy in my entire life. I got into the school of my dreams. For once, I feel good about myself, but I also feel like a better person lately. And it is all because of you and your support."

"Well, that settles it," Brick smirked, kissing her forehead briefly before continuing. "I'm not so bad at this thing after all."

"You never were," she replied, turning on her heels and leading them over to the blanket he set out. They withdrew their hands from each other, settling onto the cozy fabric. Their backs laid lazily on the ground. Blossom's hand immediately went to the bouquet of rose, which were still wrapped into a bundle covered by brown craft paper. She took in the sweet smell, closing her eyes for a moment in delight.

"They didn't have peonies," Brick said quietly, watching her in awe. Captivated by her utter beauty as he always was. She opened her eyes, settling them onto him, listening to what he furthered on. "According to the lady who ran the flower shop I went to, they weren't in season. So I got those… They reminded me of your eyes."

"You're too good to me," Blossom murmured, awed by his recollection of her favorite flower after a brief conversation they had before even realizing their feelings for each other.

Blossom gently placed the roses beside her. She then snuggled up next to Brick, her head resting on his chest. Her right leg draped over his, while her right arm did the same over his torso. His right arm snaked around her neck as he settled his hand on her waist. She felt Brick lift his head up as his free hand went to the empty space beside him. A few seconds later, a gray blanket made of the same material they laid on, was draped over both of them, stopping before her chin and his chest respectively. The combining heat radiating from Brick's body and the blanket warmed her soul.

"If you look to the left, you could see _Canis Major_ ," he revealed, his free hand pointing in the direction above them, trailing out a figure. Blossom shifted her eyes to see the constellation he spoke of but had no luck. "Not my favorite constellation but I always seem to find it out of everything else."

Blossom wished she could relate to him but all she saw was a jumbled array of stars. Each reflecting and shining in their own way.

She smiled softly against the fabric of his shirt, "Is Astronomy another one of your past passions?"

"Sort of," he chuckled. "When I was in elementary school, anything involving science was a favorite of mine and I had to learn everything about each sub-field. That's why I was into Meteorology. But Astronomy is probably my least favorite out of all the fields I brushed up on. It just seems too vague and unattainable for any of the information to make sense to me." Brick smirked to himself, "But knowing each constellation is definitely a perk."

"Impressed a lot of girls before?" She teased.

"Maybe," he grinned sheepishly.

"Such a dog."

"Not anymore."

"True." Blossom nuzzled her cheek more into his chest. Her eyes remained on the blinking lights above them. "Tell more about the constellations."

"Are you sure?" Brick questioned. "Other than physically seeing them, everything else is pretty much a bore. Most of it is either mathematical facts or mythology."

"I don't care. I just want to hear you talk."

"Alright," Brick exhaled. The hand on her waist stroked the skin peeking out from the hem of her shirt as he explained to her the origins of certain constellations in the sky.

As Blossom listened to him retell the story of _Orion_ to her, she could not escape the blissfulness she felt. The utter peace and harmony she was experiencing from being in his arms. How his voice soothed her. His touch pulsing through her skin like electricity but also had a way of calming her down too.

She contorted her head to an angle, looking up at him as he spoke. Her eyes memorizing each and every detail about him. The lights of the candles catching his eyelashes, making them appear lighter than they were.

He was beautiful to her. She was still in awe on how he could ever be her's, yet he wanted her. He took the time to surprise her with a gesture she did not know she even needed until he did so.

For once, she did not feel intimidated by someone's affections for her. She knew now in her gut that this felt completely right. Being at Brick's side, listening to him, and feeling the overwhelming happiness he produced within her, was all Blossom could ever want in the world.

It was for those reasons why, this was the moment she knew...

* * *

"Okay…" Boomer grinned, turning the key in the ignition of the rented _Volkswagen Van_ he acquired. The engine immediately rumbling from being turned on. He pressed on the gas, backing out of one of the school's parking lots. Once out, he ventured into the road outside of the school, glancing at Bubbles excitedly for a brief second. "And we're off."

"I can't believe we're doing this," Bubbles grinned tightly.

"Me either but I'm glad we are."

"Me too," she breathed.

Her stomach sunk in from the anxious feeling. They were five hours away from meeting her dad. Five hours, and Bubbles would no longer be an orphan.

She could not pinpoint one justifiable emotion she felt.

Anxiety. Excitement. Terror. Joy.

She felt ever possible emotion she could think of.

There was also one thought in her mind that she could not escape from.

She simply wanted for everything to go right. She did not want anything to go wrong.

With that, she only had five more hours to discover the truth. To find out who her father exactly was.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Just wanted to say thank you to everyone for reading and supporting this story. Furthermore, thank you to those who take the time to review.**

 **Also I'm hoping to be more speedier with the updates now that I'm summer break from college. Other than that, have a wonderful day.**


	22. You Got Blackmail

The drive back from San Mateo was a silent one. Boomer kept his eyes focused on the road. His hand fiddled with the radio from time to time. There was no acknowledgement made in the direction of the blonde passenger next to him.

Bubbles stared out the window, taking in the muted scenery of the highway back to Townsville. Her chin rested in the palm of her hand. Her body shifted towards the car door, expressing her need for solitude.

Her baby blue eyes were glazed over from the heavy thoughts invading her troubled mind. She pondered over how she got here. Desolate and rejected.

Bubbles wondered how a weekend full of promise and excitement, only left her with an emptiness in her soul.

* * *

 _Twenty four hours ago…_

"I still can't believe we're doing this," Bubbles said in amazement. "Are we insane? I feel like we're insane."

Boomer took a brief moment to glance at her, flashing a smile, before returning them back to the road ahead of them.

"We are but who cares?"

Bubbles giggled nervously at his comment. They had been making their way to San Mateo since the night before. When they left the Academy, they checked into a motel after two hours of driving, looking for some rest after both were exhausted from waking up at six in the morning to participate in the last school day before the three day weekend. They then hit the road again in the morning. By noon, they should be in San Mateo.

By the end of the day, Bubbles would have met her father. The man who helped create and give her life. A person she has longed to meet since she could remember.

The reality was nerve-wracking. Even if Boomer did not find anyone who should care, Bubbles did. She knew her dad would care about them showing up out of nowhere.

The realization of how there had to be a reason for why her dad did not want her to keep contacting him, was a lingering thought. A seed of doubt sprouting greatly as they grew closer to San Mateo.

However, Boomer's enthusiasm was infectious. His optimism to the situation, made her feel the same way. She was cheerful and excited _because_ he was. If he was not with her, Bubbles would not be able to muster up any courage.

Or at least, not at the very moment in time. Bubbles liked to believed she may have gotten brave enough to make a trip to see her dad sometime in the distant future if Boomer did not provide his influence.

"Do you know what you're going to say to him?" Boomer asked.

Millions of conversation topics vocalized themselves in her head. Each one fighting for the chance to escape her mind.

"I think I would ask him about my mom," Bubbles answered after a beat. "Ask him about how she was and how they fell in love."

Bubbles did not notice how the corners of Boomer's mouth dipped downward. "I would ease into the love one if I were you."

The blonde arched an eyebrow, "I don't see no harm in asking."

"I don't know, Bubs. He left your mom before you were born. If he truly did love her, then why leave?" Boomer asked cautiously, treading around the eggshells he surely knew Bubbles had towards the idea despite her lack of expression. Even if Boomer did not know much about his girlfriend's feelings about her need to contact her dad until recently—a choice he could not help question as to why Bubbles kept it a secret from him but did not vocalize—he could tell Bubbles was going to be sensitive about certain things due to his vast knowledge about her. "I just think you might want to hold onto that thought until you're both comfortable with each other."

Bubbles resisted the urge to narrow her eyes at Boomer. She was baffled by his statement. The thought of her parents not loving each other before she was created, distressed her largely. And the fact Boomer would suggest such a thing after convincing her to take this road trip, furthered her discomfort.

She did not let him know though. It would only result in an disagreement and Bubbles did not want Boomer to be upset at her when she needed his support when meeting her dad.

"Okay," Bubbles nodded. A weak smile tugged at her lips, unable to even convince herself. "I wouldn't."

* * *

Bubbles could feel her heartbeat taking over her entire body. Her pulse tightened and heavy. The thumping of her heart was amplified in her ears. Her skull pounding away with the anxious emotions she felt as she sat in the waiting area of her father's office.

In a matter of minutes, his assistant would notify her it was her time to speak to him. In minutes, Bubbles would come face to face with the man who helped create her.

She did not have an address on his home, so his place of business was the best option for her. Bubbles had texted him beforehand that she was going to show up but she had the nagging feeling that he did not see it.

Or that he did not believe her.

Bubbles drummed her fingers across the skin peeking out from the rips in her light-washed jeans to fight off the nerves she felt. Her blue eyes could not break away from the door leading to her father's office.

She felt a hand reach out for her, finding it on her knee cap. The blonde glanced to her side as Boomer displayed a supportive smile for her.

Bubbles gave him a single nod, appreciative of his support. For helping her to be brave in this utterly frightening experience.

There was no one else she wanted to be here with her.

"Olivia Lopez?"

Bubbles looked up to find her dad's assistant holding the door open, waiting for her to come. Her kind smile and doe-colored eyes made Bubbles feel safe. There was enough comfort shared from the stranger, that made Bubbles feel confident enough to walk over to the door without any hesitations.

She took a deep breath before walking in. Her feet were frozen the second the door closed behind her. Her body remained in place right by the exit in case of needing a quick get away.

The room was empty as her father must have left for a moment.

Her eyes roamed around the space. Plaques awarded and etched with her father's name lined the western wall. A long but short cabinet was underneath. Some shelves were open for her to see, containing various books on architecture. On the right, a big window allowed the sun to soak up the space, providing enough natural light to make it pointless to use any artificial forms. A beige couch was placed right below the window. In front of her, was her father's desk. Glass was the surface of the furniture, providing support to hold up his laptop, documents, and a few photo frames. A name plate in front of his laptop stated _Wallace Harper_ openly and proudly to anyone who entered his personal place of business.

She focused on the two chairs in front of the desk, wondering if it would be weird if she did not sit in them. As Bubbles debated within herself, a door in the back of the office opened and a man entered.

He wore a white dress shirt with blue pinstripes, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Dark blue slacks and brown loafers. He had a short crew cut of blond strands mixed with sprinkles of gray. His eyes were accompanied by slightly defined crows feet while his skin seemed unnaturally tan. He had a strong jawline, broad shoulders, and was well fit for a man who should be in his mid to late forties.

Bright blue eyes similar to her very own, sent shivers down her spine when she looked over his appearance.

Bubbles knew she must look paralyzed. The face of being utterly speechless.

He had the same one too.

Other than her hair and eyes, Bubbles had been said to be strikingly identical to her mother when she was her age. A fact, in which, was made apparent by how her dad was looking at her.

His oddly tan face seemed to be drained of all of his natural color, leaving him with the artificial coloration masking his skin. Thick eyebrows furrowed together as his lips moved together to make a sentence but could not create an audible word.

They stayed like this for what seemed like forever. Blue eyes staring each other down, unsure on how to move forward.

Bubbles swallowed the heavy lump in her throat, pushing herself to be brave. She did not come all this way, make herself appear crazy, to not say anything to him.

"...Hi," she greeted meekly, giving him a quick wave.

He did not reply to her. His mind still trying to process what exactly was happening.

Bubbles took this as a cue to speak more. She made her way to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"So I know I shouldn't have come here but I knew if I didn't do it now, I might never have another chance. I just—" Bubbles paused as she settled into the chair. Her vision lining up with one of the photo frames in front of her.

It was of her father. He was on the beach. Probably one nearby. Her father was not alone, however. There was a dark-haired woman who appeared around his age. Followed by two males. One who appeared to be in his early twenties, the other who looked about two years younger than her.

The photo could not be old as her father looked nearly identical to the image. Perhaps it was taken a year or two ago.

Bubbles' eyes quickly went to her father's left hand, immediately finding his gold wedding band. The piece of jewelry caught the light, shining back at her in a taunting manner from the shattering truth.

She was conceived from an affair.

That was why her dad left. Because he was never her mother's to begin with.

He had a whole other family. A family who he cared more about. One who he could not abandon like he had done to her and her mom.

She heard him clear his throat. Her eyes trailed up to meet his, finding it eerie to look at such a shade of blue without glancing at herself in the mirror.

"She never told you…" He said. His deep and gruff voice lacked of any emotional ties.

Bubbles shook her head, feeling like such a fool. "She didn't like talking about you much. And I didn't get to ask about you at all because she died when I was six."

He nodded, seeming to have held the knowledge but did not display any signs of grief or remorse.

"My condolences."

"It's kind of late for that," she murmured.

He glanced away from her. His fingers tapped against the glass of his desk, leaving smudgy fingerprints on the transparent surface.

"Are you satisfied now?" He asked after some time.

"What… _Am I satisfied_?" Bubbles repeated, her eyebrow raised as her stomach churned from the large disappointment she felt.

This was an awful idea. A terrible, no good, horrendous idea.

"I told you to stop contacting me. I did what Yolanda wanted. She didn't want you knowing the truth—"

"She did what now?" The blonde questioned in disbelief.

"Your mom…" He took a moment to take in a deep breath. His knuckles knocked on the glass as his hand movements displayed the true discomfort he felt. "She wouldn't _fix_ what happened…" He paused, reluctantly to finish his sentence until it came out in a quick breath. " _Between us_ … and she was against the idea of adoption. She knew I wasn't going to leave my wife for her. And she knew I needed go take care of the son I already had. So when I told her I was leaving her, Yolanda made me promise to stay away from you. She didn't want me to 'ruin' you, like I had done to her. It was all her decision," He finished, rolling his eyes at the last sentence.

Bubbles shook her head, unwilling to accept what he was trying to say. She blinked roughly to fight off the hot tears brimming in her eyes.

"You know, she dropped out of college because of what you _both_ did. She had to work three jobs and raised me the best she could up until she was confined to a hospital bed. She took ownership of being a parent while you got to cheat and run away. So don't try to turn this on her," Bubbles responded, her voice shaking throughout. "You knew she died. You knew I was parentless. Yet you did nothing. You could have reached out. Explained what happened between you two. Maybe we wouldn't have had a relationship, maybe we would have. Who knows? But instead, you were too much of a coward to own up to your actions."

He scoffed at her claims. A small sound escaped from his lips that made Bubbles believe he laughed for a short moment.

"Why are you here?" He asked with a hint of annoyance in his tone.

"I don't even know anymore," Bubbles mumbled. Her eyes fell to her lap in defeat. "I thought I wanted a dad but now…"

He cleared his throat again. The sound of papers being straightened together amplified in her ears.

"I think you should leave," he said after a beat.

Bubbles felt like a balloon. All of the air within her had disappeared, making her feel flat and useless. As if she was never going to be important again. Just something to be discarded, like her dad had done all of those years ago.

She did not vocalize disagreements with his suggestion because there were not any. It was time for her to leave. Time for her to get rid of the ridiculous notion she could forge a relationship with a man who never wanted anything to do with her from the beginning.

Her legs moved like jello, her knees seeming to want to lock together as she made her way to the door. She held back the need to cry. There was no way she was going to allow herself to be any more vulnerable in front of him.

She reached for the doorknob, pausing as she turned it. Her neck craned around to give him one last look as she asked him one more question. One she could not help from escaping her lips.

"Did you at least love her?"

Her father's eyes seemed to cloud over. His face tightened, preventing him from expressing any emotions.

"You should go," was what he replied with before distracting himself with something on his computer.

Bubbles made sure he got one last look of how disappointed she was in who he turned out to be. For him to be forever reminded of the awful thing he did. To make sure he did get the slightest clue as to how his abandonment has affected her.

Once in the lobby, Bubbles did not have to say a single word to Boomer for him to get the hint. He immediately rose from the waiting room chair and wrapped his arm around her, guiding her out of the office before she began to cry in his arms.

* * *

"Well, this place is quaint," Boomer commented as he held the door opened to their motel room.

The room looked as if it was stuck in the eighties. Thick baby blue curtains hung by the single window by the door. Paintings of seashells in pastel colors were on display above the queen-sized bed. The linen of the bed was decorated with similar shells in a pale pink and blue pattern. The furniture of the room was made in outdated white-washed wood. The rough tan carpet underneath them had a dark stain under a dusty floor lamp in a corner. An old coffee machine was placed next to the boxy television that was on top of the dresser in the room.

"Yeah…" Bubbles mumbled, placing her bag on the ground.

She resisted from glancing at him as she made a beeline for the bathroom. After what occurred, Bubbles was too fragile to hear Boomer attempting to make her believe everything would be okay.

In the bathroom, Bubbles turned on the shower, hoping it could mask out the sobs escaping from her mouth. She sat down on the toilet seat, unable to contain her crying anymore. Her vision was getting lost in a swirling pattern of the blue and pink tiling of the bathroom walls.

She was so naive and foolish. She knew better than to get her hopes up but everyone kept convincing her to go against her gut.

She _let_ them convince her. She let them because all she wanted was to have a dad. Sure, Bubbles had her abulea, who actually had more to do with raising her than her mom; she should not want someone else in her when she was fine. Yet, her longing for a father figure has never decreased over the years.

Her want lapsed her better judgement. She went through with an utterly invasive plan to contact her father because she was desperate to have him in her life.

Now she met him and it was not at all what she wanted. Instead of having another person to count on in her life, she was left with the heartbreak of realizing who her dad truly was.

Who her mom was, too.

She felt gutted. Empty to the core. And the worst part was, Bubbles was not sure when the feeling could ever be fixed.

* * *

Bubbles had emerged out of the bathroom two hours later. One hour was spent crying, the other was used to wash away the emotions of the day. The latter was not as effective as she wished.

When she finally appeared out of the bathroom, dressed in an over-sized tee-shirt and sleeper shorts, she found the room to be empty. A piece of paper was left on the bed next to a plastic bag. Bubbles picked up the paper while using her other hand to look into the bag, finding a Styrofoam container.

 _ **Went and got you some food. I'm at the pool if you need anything else**_.

 _ **Love, Boomer**_

Bubbles let out an exhausted sigh. The note fell back onto the bed as she opened the container. He had gotten her a veggie burger and fries.

Comfort food, Bubbles determined. Her version of it, at least.

She took a seat on the bed, absentmindedly feeding herself as she grabbed the remote for the television in the room. Bubbles flipped through all of the channels, not finding any programming she wanted until the third time doing it. Her mind simply decided to settle on a rerun of _Law & Order._

Her eyes were glued to the screen but she failed to take in anything in which was happening. In fact, her mind was completely blank for an entire episode before Boomer came back in the room.

He greeted her before heading into the bathroom. The sound of the shower being used was heard through the thin wall of the room.

Bubbles sighed to herself, placing the empty container and plastic bag on the nightstand beside her. She knew Boomer wanted to talk to her about what happened. He wanted to make sure she was okay. Bubbles knew she should at least make an effort to not shut him out but her heart felt it was not capable of doing so.

When he came out of the bathroom, Bubbles braced herself for whatever he was going to ask her.

"So…" Boomer began, clearing his throat subtlety, capturing her full attention.

His hair was still wet from his shower. The ends of his light blond hair were curling ever so slightly. A soft navy blue tee-shirt hugged his upper body while he wore a pair of gray basketball shorts.

He made his way to the other side of the bed, fixing his pillow arrangement as his eyes met her's as he spoke.

"I know this is a dumb question, but are you okay?"

Bubbles felt her stomach sink at the question. Of course, she was not okay. The blonde knew she should not fault Boomer for asking such a thing—it was a common question to ask, after all. But after the day she had, and _has been having lately_ , Bubbles could not help feeling the question pushing her even more over the edge.

As if something inside of her had finally snapped and now Bubbles no longer felt like trying to be her bright self.

"No. I'm not," she said under her breath.

Boomer lifted the covers on his side, sliding into the bed beside her. His eyes never being removed from her's as he angled his face in her direction. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Bubbles scoffed tiredly at the idea. "What's the point? I was stupid enough to think this was a good idea. My dad is an absolute jerk and I was conceived out of an immortal affair. What else is left to say?"

"Well, what about how you feel—"

"I get it, Boomer," Bubbles sighed, shaking her head from growing slightly irritated by his need to continue on the conversation when she believed it was obvious she did not want to. "I'm not being my normal happy-go-lucky self. I'm sorry I can't be like that right now. It must be disappointing to be around me when I'm like this but I can't help it."

"Bubs, I'm not asking you to be happy all the time. That would be ridiculous of me," Boomer countered. His tone was a bit apprehensive as he did not want to say the wrong thing. "But I do wish you would communicate with me so you don't let everything fester up inside of you. I don't want you to shut me out when I'm just trying to help you."

"Communicate?" She repeated dully. "Funny. I don't believe we have been able to communicate properly for months now but this is the time you actually want to."

Boomer narrowed his eyes at her. It was not in a malicious manner or out of rage. It was more out of wanting to understand her. To see her and her words thoroughly through.

"If you want to talk, then let's talk," he shrugged. A hint of passive aggressiveness could be found in his tone. "What is it that we need to discuss, Bubbles?"

"Fine," she huffed out. Her hand combed through her blonde curls anxiously. "I guess I'll start by pointing out the elephant in the room. I shouldn't have let you convince me to come here and do this."

"So you're blaming me?" Boomer questioned in disbelief.

Bubbles shook her head slowly. "I'm not. I blame myself for letting you get in my head and believe this was going to end up in any other way but what it did today. I had all the red flags but I chose to ignore them. Everyone kept telling me to continue—"

" _Everyone_?" He interrupted, his eyebrow arched accusingly. "Who do you mean by everyone? Because from the impression I had, you had only told me about contacting your dad."

The secret she has kept from him—or maybe just a piece of information she failed to give him as Bubbles hated for it to sound like she was keeping secrets from Boomer—for a few weeks was caught up in her throat, struggling to climb out into words. She swallowed harshly before answering him.

"I may have told a couple other people," Bubbles whispered meekly.

"Who?"

Bubbles stared intensely into his eyes. His singular inquiry hung in the air as Bubbles could not hide from the hurt his tone carried over to her.

He felt betrayed in someway, the blond determined. To realize he was purposely not included in such a big occurrence in her life.

Or it could be from the fact, he had no clue what was going on with her while others did. That he was kept in the dark by the one person Boomer trusted the most in the world.

Boomer hated how upset he felt from the minor truth she had revealed to him. He hated it more how he has made this conversation about himself in a way, but Boomer could not help himself from furthering his questioning.

"I told Butch a week before you," Bubbles admitted quietly. "We were having a deep conversation one night about his breakup and it just came out. I didn't mean to tell him. It just happened. But even then, Butch tried telling me to push forward and that things would work out with my dad when I felt like there was no point anymore."

She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear as Boomer nodded, not seeming to see any fault in her telling Butch.

"Then I told Dexter a couple weeks beforehand—"

"Dexter?" Boomer repeated, confused by the idea of short redhead having anything to discuss with Bubbles.

It was not that he believed Dexter should not talk to Bubbles or anything; it was towards his belief Bubbles and Dexter were two completely opposite individuals. The idea of them working together or having a serious conversation was odd, to say the least. Even after they were paired together for Ms. Keane's project, Boomer could not find himself not perplexed by the notion of Bubbles and Dexter interacting. Especially on their own without any outside influence.

Bubbles nodded for confirmation. "Yes. He helped me get more information on my dad." Her baby blue eyes went to the linens of the bed. The tips of her fingers traced the seam of the fabric. "Dexter is actually the one who gave me the phone number to contact him in the first place. Without his help and also the various pep talks he gave me, I would have never made the mistake of reaching out to my dad."

"Alright," Boomer said in a breath.

Even though he had no authority to do so, he could not fault her for any reason with who she chose to tell. His hurt feelings were slowly escaping from his thoughts.

Bubbles was the opposite from him internal. Instead of feeling comfort in listing off the two males, Bubbles found even more mistakes she made. Both had gotten in her ear, like Boomer, and persuaded her when she wanted to give up. There was only one person who was honest with her about the true reality.

From the start, Brick had told her that her father would have been in her life already if he wanted to. He had pointed out how Bubbles was incapable of changing her mind from the idea of finding her dad as she had already convinced herself to do it.

In retrospect, Bubbles had no one to truly blame. At the end of the day, every decision made was her own to make. Instead of owning up to it, Bubbles was realizing she was trying to point the finger at someone else. She did not want to be the own cause of her sadness. Yet, she was.

Her shift in dissecting those who convinced her to continue, were all ways to distract her from the truth. She was playing the victim again. Bubbles wanted to believe the others had pushed her to reach out to her dad but deep down, the blonde knew she would have, _eventually_ , found a way to make contact without any influence from the guys.

What happened earlier in the day, was simply inevitable. The difference of whether it was going to happen now or on a later day, was the only interchangeable factor.

Bubbles had to face the fact she was responsible for all of this. She was the one who disregarded her father's text message. The one who was okay with Dexter violating her dad's privacy by giving away his phone number to her. Bubbles was the one who agreed to go with Boomer to find him.

She was the one who told the others and now had to have a difficult conversation with them about what happened.

Things would be much more simpler if she had kept her want to meet her dad between her and Brick. If she would have brightened up and listened to him initially.

"Brick was the first one to know," Bubbles murmured. "I should have kept it that way too."

"You told Brick first?" Boomer questioned. His stomach churned from the unpleasant feeling of the redhead's name being brought up to him. "Why would you do that?"

"Because he knows exactly what I've been through."

Boomer rolled his eyes, huffing out hot air. "Yeah, sure."

"What is that suppose to mean?" Bubbles clocked, eyeing him suspiciously. She did not understand why Boomer was getting so hostile.

"Brick is awful, Bubs. He's a liar and it's no coincidence that his name rhymes with prick," the blond grumbled. "Or dick."

"He's not that bad, Boomer."

Boomer nodded furiously. "Yes, he is. He fucked with Blossom and Butch's relationship."

"I think that's more on Blossom then Brick," Bubbles challenged.

"Well… you're not wrong," Boomer puffed out. His mind was getting cloudy from the distraught he felt from Brick being involved. His mouth moving faster than his mind. "But Brick still allowed her to cheat. He was okay with them having sex with each other before she even broke up with Butch. How could you want someone like that to be your friend? Nonetheless, trust to know incredibly important news relating to you?"

Bubbles blinked slowly at him. His words revealing a truth she was out of touch with.

"Blossom cheated?" She whispered in disbelief.

Boomer opened his mouth, realizing he had told her the one secret he promised with Buttercup to keep. He hung his head low, nodding in shame.

"Yes…"

"What? When? How did this happen?" She said in a rapid fire pace.

"I don't even know," Boomer mumbled, burying his head in his hands. "I just… _know_ she cheated and I can't tell Butch."

"How long have you known?"

Boomer glanced up, meeting her eyes. His fingers counted up the weeks as he did the same in his head. "For about a month, I believe."

"And you didn't tell me?" Bubbles exasperated quietly.

"No. No, no, no." Boomer wagged his finger at her in disapproval. "You don't get to turn this on me. I couldn't tell you because of reasons that don't involve me or you."

"But you're allowed to be upset because I told Brick about my dad and didn't tell you?" Bubbles presented with annoyance.

"Because it's not even the same," the blond defended.

"Oh it isn't?"

"It's not. You think I like to hear about my girlfriend getting close with and confining in a guy who has hooked up with more girls than I can count. And who also has a history of getting involved with girls who are already in relationships without an ounce of concern," Boomer argued. "Which by the way, for him to be only eighteen years old, I find his… _endeavors_ to be quite alarming. Like does he have an addiction? Does he get tested often? I hope for Blossom's sake that he does," he trailed off, getting distracted by his curious mind.

Bubbles cleared her throat, snapping him out of his thoughts. She chose to ignore his questions as the heated conversation continued.

"You think I would cheat on you with Brick?" Bubbles said, her voice on edge.

Her and Brick were friends, to say the least. There was never a moment she felt they could be anything more. Especially considering how much he was into Blossom.

Her mind was blown by the idea of Boomer not trusting her. A complete form of offense seeped off of her, making her blinded with an agenda.

"What? No!" Boomer exclaimed brashly. "I know you wouldn't do anything like that but Brick… I don't trust him at all. I know what he's capable of doing."

Bubbles rolled her eyes, folding her arms. "I don't need you trying to police who I talk to."

"I'm not trying to—"

"It seems like it."

"That's not—"

"If we're going to entertain the idea of one of us possibly being unloyal—"

"I never said you would cheat," Boomer defended again, his voice going up a higher octave to the point of it cracking a little.

"—Then we should talk about your friendship with Dee Dee," Bubbles said flatly.

Boomer stared at her with bewilderment in his eyes as Bubbles gasped to herself. Her words fell back to her ears. A wave of regret instantly washed over her. She was being incredibly immature. Her ill mood was taking over and she was projecting it all out on Boomer.

Her comment about Dee Dee was what woke her up to this realization. She opened her mouth to apologize but Boomer had spoken up before her.

"Dee Dee and I are just friends," Boomer said cautiously. An eyebrow cocked as he tilted his head to a degree. "Not to mention, she's—"

"No, no," Bubbles dismissed weakly, waving her hand in the air to stop him. "I don't need to hear anything negative about her to make me feel better. I shouldn't have even brought it up. It's so stupid."

"I wasn't going to say anything bad about her," the blond replied slowly. "But again, our friendship is nothing to be insecure about."

"But Brick and I are?"

Boomer hesitated before nodding. "It is. I'm sorry. I just don't like the idea of you being close with him."

"Are you scared Brick is trying to get with me?" Bubbles asked gently. Boomer remained quiet for a long moment, unable to meet her eyes. "Boomer?"

"I don't know, maybe…" he shrugged off under his breath.

"Boomer, I wouldn't—"

"How do you know, Bubbles?" Boomer interrupted. His dark blue eyes narrowed at her. "I'm sure Blossom didn't expect to fall for him and his web of charms. Not to mention, you would probably prefer someone who is _actually_ able to attend college than some moron like me. Someone who has a future…"

Bubbles opened her mouth but her words did not come out. She was silently shocked by Boomer's display of his insecurity.

One she had no idea about.

She did, however, know it really had nothing to do with Brick when it came down to it.

"Boomer, you're going to have a future," she began. "So you didn't get into college now, but you can apply again next year or—"

"That's the thing, Bubs," he interrupted, catching her off guard. "I don't want to go to college. _At all_." He took a moment to expel a breath of relief from finally getting the decision off of his chest. "I've given it a lot of thought and I just feel like it's better if I didn't. I've never been super into school anyways, so why would I want to sign up for four more years that will get me deep into student loan debt?"

Bubbles remained silent. Her heart had dropped from his revelation. A prickle of bitterness overcame her as it had finally sunk in to her.

"I gave up UCLA," she muttered to herself.

"Bubbles, I—"

She shook her head, not wanting to hear any words of comfort he may have. "I gave up UCLA for you and now you don't even want to consider college."

"You know, I do have a right to the discussion of our future, right?" He argued, narrowing his eyes. An irritation within him was building up from her trying to blame him more for something that was up to her to decide.

"But you could have told me about this before I decided not to apply to UCLA," she said spitefully.

"I didn't know that I don't want to go to college until I got rejected. I couldn't have given you a warning even if I tried to," Boomer deflected.

"I don't—"

"It was your decision, Bubbles!" he exasperated. "Buttercup warned you about not applying. You can't keep blaming me for what you chose to do."

"I'm not…" Bubbles paused, running a hand through her hair. A shaky breath was released from her body as tears started to well up in her eyes. "Oh god. I keep on doing it. I keep playing the victim."

Boomer remained mum. He did not want to make her feel anymore worse but her statement was true.

"Why do I keep doing this? I thought I would get better at it but every time something upsets me, I push the blame somewhere else," Bubbles mumbled.

"It's hard to break old habits," Boomer said, presenting a sheepish smile to help her feel better but Bubbles did not seem to have received the message.

"And why did this turn into a fight?" She whispered. The first of tears ran down her cheek as she turned towards Boomer, searching for any answer.

Boomer shrugged his shoulder, unable to meet her stare. "I don't know. I guess it has to do with how much this was a shitty day. So shitty days bring out shitty emotions." He inhaled deeply, rubbing the back of his neck. "It could also be because we haven't been communicating lately. I guess from the lack of discussion between us, a resentment built up within us without realizing it."

Bubbles pursed her lips in consideration before nodding. "...I guess so."

"Look, Bubs." Boomer started to reach out for her but resisted the urge, keeping his hand by his side. "I don't want to continue this and say anymore stuff we'll regret."

"Me either," she murmured, dabbing at her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"So maybe we should go to sleep. I'm sure we're also both exhausted. It's been an emotionally draining day for you and I didn't get much sleep at the last motel…"

Bubbles wanted to disagree with him. She wanted to iron out all of their issues. To apologize for taking all the blame out on him and saying things she wholeheartedly regretted but Boomer did have a point. There was no logic in them continuing to have this conversation when emotions were already high from the day and they were depleted of energy. It was all a recipe for disaster if they went more deeper into their problems.

Her mind feared for the worse, not wanting the night to result in a different form of rejection than she felt earlier in the day.

"Okay," was what she uttered before they both settled in for the night. Their backs turned away from each other as they kept a good foot of distance between them. Each struggled with a heavy conscience when initially trying to fall asleep before their exhaustion overcame them.

* * *

They were fifteen minutes away from Townsville Academy. A entire car ride of silence fulfilled their day, capping off the already unpleasant weekend.

Bubbles was not even sure how she was going to dive back into school after the ranging emotions of the last two days. Her mind continuously reflected over every single thing she did wrong. Everything in which was another red flag she ignored.

She heard Boomer clear his throat, snapping her out of her thoughts. The radio to the van was turned down as he glanced over to her.

"Hey, I just want to say sorry for what happened last night," he said gently. "I shouldn't have been so hard on you after the day you had and I should have told you about the college thing sooner. I just… I didn't want to disappoint you. I know how much going to college together was important to you."

Bubbles chewed down on her bottom lip, unsure on how to respond to him.

"Thank you," she replied after a prolonged beat. "I think… I think I need to apologize too. While I am not entirely happy about you choosing not to go to college, it's not my decision to make. If not going is what's going to make you happy, then I should be supportive of it. And I shouldn't have blamed you for why I'm not going to UCLA…"

A appreciative smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, "You could always apply to transfer, you know? You could still go to UCLA."

"Yeah… Maybe, I can," Bubbles nodded hesitantly before a soft smile spread across her lips. "Would you come with me though? To Los Angeles?"

"Of course," he answered. "I may not want to go to college, but I do still want to be with you during your journey into the scary world of higher education."

"Okay," Bubbles beamed. "That's good to know."

"It is." Boomer returned the same look to her. His grin faltered a little as he coughed subtlety. There was more on his mind that clouded his brief moment of happiness shared with Bubbles. "So um… I also want to apologize for the Brick stuff too. This whole thing with him and Blossom caught me off guard. I really thought he was a trustworthy person but then he…" The blond paused, shrugging his shoulder in defeat. " _Did that_. And he lied to me so easily when I found out, that now I don't think I could ever trust him again. So hearing that you went to him first, made me fearful of us being a repeat of Butch and Blossom. I shouldn't have but unfortunately, I did."

"It's fine, Boomer," Bubbles huffed out. She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, turning her body to face towards him now. No longer did she want to be closed off from him. "I should have told you first and not him."

"It's okay that you did… But can I ask why you did? Just to get a better understanding of the situation?"

Bubbles pursed her lips for a moment. "... I went to him first because he was the only one I knew who would understand what it is like to not have a dad. Everyone else has both of their parents. You and Buttercup have two parents who love you so much. And then Butch and Blossom... yeah, sure, their parents suck but I don't know." She took a moment to shrug her shoulders. "They are lucky enough to still have their parents in my eyes. But Brick… him and I know what it is like to have a material figure trying to be the mom _and_ dad. He knows about the heavy pit that forms in your chest when you hear other kids talking highly about their dads. Most of all, he knows what it is like to pretend you don't need one. How you need to convince yourself that not having a dad will not affect you in the long run. But when it all comes down to it, not having our dads has deeply defined us more than we truly know…"

"Oh," Boomer murmured after a moment. His body language stiffening up from the sad realization that he never knew Bubbles felt such a way about her dad. Even if she never brought it up, Boomer should have asked her about it at some point in their relationship to understand her more. "I'm sorry, Bubs. I had no clue…"

"I didn't let you," she confessed. "I didn't want to seem like I was incomplete without him—And I do know _I am complete_ without him in my life. I just... It can be hard sometimes when the nagging voice in my head wants to drag me down by having to constantly remind myself that I don't have a dad. When my mind wants to wonder how drastically different I may have been if he was actually present in my life. So when I learned his name and that he was alive, it just… It changed something within me. The want to know him. To experience all the daddy-daughter stuff I missed out on as a kid. It just overcame me and before I knew it, I stupidly had decided I wanted to know him."

"It was not stupid to want to know him. None of this was stupid, Bubbles."

The blonde shrugged her shoulders, still feeling like a fool for everything that happened. "I guess… Maybe I should be grateful though. At least I got the chance to see who my dad was. Brick learned about his dad around the same time as me. All he got was the truth of how much of a terrible person his dad was and how he was murdered..." She exhaled a heavy breath from the depths of her chest. "... I think... I think he may have secretly had the same feeling as me. Just really deep, deep, _deep_ down in his soul. But now, he doesn't have a chance. A chance he didn't realize was there until it was too late."

Boomer furrowed his eyebrows. "Wow… That makes a lot of sense."

"About why Brick is the way he is?"

"Yeah…" Boomer nodded once before shrugging. "But it still doesn't excuse his shitty behavior."

"I just hope he doesn't keep it all in," she said quietly. "I don't want him to self-destruct because of this. I know how easy it is for the feeling to take over."

"Is that why you didn't tell me right away?" Boomer questioned. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel anxiously.

"I… I don't know," she sighed. "I guess a part of me was scared of making a big deal out of all of this. A different part felt you wouldn't understand because your parents are awesome. And then there was another that wanted to keep this as a _Bubbles_ thing for as long as I could before it became a _Bubbles and Boome_ r thing."

" _Bubbles and Boomer_ thing…" he repeated, nodding along absentmindedly. "I see…"

"It's not that I don't want you in my life—"

"No, no. I understand," Boomer reassured, flashing a small smile at her as he turned the van. "We can be codependent on each other. It's rare for us to have anything without involving the other unless it's sports. I get it. I truly do… But I do think we should make it a priority to be more open to each other about what we want to be just a _Bubbles_ thing or just a _Boomer_ thing. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah. It does," she answered. A lightness grew in her chest, glad that Boomer understood where she was coming from. "We need to be better at communicating."

"Exactly. I think we simply got in a rut for awhile and we forgot to attend to each other like we used to."

Bubbles nodded in agreement. "I'm glad we caught on to it now though. Before anything happened."

"Sorry, Bubs. But it's going to be incredibly hard for you to lose me." He glanced over at her. "Remember? I'm just like a boomerang, according to Butch. You can fling me away all you want, but I will still come back to you each and every time," Boomer grinned as she giggled at his comment.

He pulled into the parking lot of Townsville Academy. His hand turned off the engine after he parked the van. His stare went to Bubbles as she did the same.

Her hand reached out for his, entwining their fingers together. She leaned forward, leaving a peck on his lips. Her face pulled back an inch as her eyes traced over his face.

"Thank you, Boomy. For always being there for me, even when it's hard."

"It's not hard," he said softly. His eyes fell to her lips. His mind wondered how he found himself to be so lucky enough to be with Bubbles. To love someone so genuine and admirable like her. "Trust me. It's not." He swallowed roughly, leaning his forehead against her's. "I am sorry though. For disregarding your decision at first and convincing you to go on this trip. I shouldn't have and I'm so sor—"

"I think I've had enough apologies for one day," she interjected gently. "I just… I want to move on from this. Alright?"

Boomer let a faint smile express across his face as he leaned in for a tender kiss. His breath hit her lips with a single word.

" _Alright_."

* * *

"Do you want to come in?"

Brick arched his eyebrow. One of his hands held onto a Styrofoam box of leftovers from dinner earlier in the night and the other was loosely entangled with Blossom's. Her long, soft orange curls were pressed up against the dark wood of her door. Light pink eyes watched him patiently for an answer.

"Aren't you worried about Buttercup showing up?" He returned despite following her lead into the shared space without a proper response.

Blossom shrugged her shoulders once, shutting the door behind them. "She's been coming back at two or three in the morning for the past two days. I figured she must be doing the same tonight since we don't have class tomorrow."

"That's strange," Brick remarked, placing the leftover food on her desk before meeting an elegantly raised eyebrow from Blossom. They both sat down onto her bed with him explaining his comment while untying his shoes. "Butch has been coming back around the same time too."

"It's really not that strange," Blossom huffed, throwing herself back and sinking her head onto one of the plush pillows on her bed. "Ever since they came back from Statesville, they only seem to hang out with each other."

Brick shook off his sneakers, twisting his body around to lay flat on his stomach as his body conformed around the narrow space beside Blossom's. His hand removed his red ball cap from his head, placing it next to his leftovers. "They have? I haven't really noticed."

"I can't even recall a time seeing them separated in the past month. How could you not notice them?"

"I don't pay much attention to them anymore," Brick answered with a yawn afterward. His hand casually combed through the ends of Blossom's hair spread across her pillow.

"Well. they do and I may sound ridiculous but I think there's something going on between them."

"Didn't I joke about this before?"

"You did, and I think you were more on the nose than you thought."

"Come on, Bloss," Brick chuckled. "This is Buttercup and Butch. The idea of them as a couple makes absolutely…" The redhead lost his train of thought as he produced a mental image of the two dark-haired individuals together.

Brick thought back to how Butch and Buttercup nearly agreed on every single question when completing Ms. Keane's personality test. The reality of the two having more in common together than Brick believed he did with Blossom. He could see them bonding over athletic endeavors—especially soccer—intimidating all of those around them, watching horror films, and listening to nineties grunge music together. How they both could find comfort in each other after their respective heartbreaks that occurred over the course of the current school year. Or perhaps, their most recent dislike towards Blossom and him.

His mouth made a small "o" shape. Crimson red eyes stared at Blossom with bewilderment. "They would make so much fucking sense together. They're literally perfect for each other."

"That's why I think they are something," Blossom replied.

Brick pursed his lips in thought, "I don't know… I feel like if they were together, Butch wouldn't be pissed anymore. And I know for a fact they aren't because Buttercup _definitely_ wouldn't put up with him still pining after you."

"You do have a point," Blossom sighed, slowly shifting herself to lay on her right hip. Brick did the same but with the opposite side of his body, removing his hand from her hair. Instead, Blossom cupped his cheek. Her thumb softly glided across his cheekbone in a soothing, continuous motion. Her thumb picked up on the short, prickly hairs on Brick's skin from a lack of shaving for the day. "But I do think there's something more to them… Maybe Buttercup has feelings?"

"Is she capable of experiencing any emotions other than anger?" Brick quipped. "Which is one reason why they would make sense together. They can be angry at the world together."

"Be nice."

Brick gave her a single nod towards the warning. He ran his hand along the exposed skin of her thigh. His forehead folded together with a thought.

"How do you feel about this?"

"About the possibility of them?"

"Yeah. I mean, that's your ex and your, um, _friend_? I'm not entirely sure what you and Buttercup are at the moment."

"Me either," she sighed dejectedly. "And I need to figure that out before we go on spring break. I still have a plane ticket for her and I don't want to waste it."

"Yeah, you do need to talk to her," Brick replied. A part of him hoping Buttercup would end up not going on the trip Blossom has been planning since last summer.

Her organized idea for their spring break was to stay at her parents' beach house in the Turk and Caicos for the week. Since he was introduced to her after the plans were made, Blossom had made the last minute adjustment to make sure he was also included.

The thought of spending a week under the same roof with Buttercup sounded like torture to him. However, the redhead kept a straight face, hiding any of his grievances towards the idea.

"But concerning Butch and Buttercup…" Blossom paused, her mind mulling over the question. Her lips were pressed together tightly before she spoke after a minute or two of silence. "I think I would encourage it," Blossom shrugged.

Brick arched an eyebrow skeptically, "You would? Don't you think it would be weird?"

"Of course it would be, but who am I to say they shouldn't be together? I actually think they would be cute."

"I'm not sure if _cute_ is the correct word choice for them."

Blossom chuckled off Brick's comment, rolling her eyes slightly. "Whether or not, I just want them to be happy. And if that's with each other, I'm all for it."

"How benevolent of you," Brick smirked, giving her a quick kiss on the lips.

"I'm trying to be," she smiled softly. "But it's been a lot easier, I must say. Everything has just… been so perfect lately," Blossom breathed happily, her chest brimming with the uncontainable bliss she felt. "If the rest of the school year is like this, I may not want to graduate."

"Careful there, Bloss," Brick advised in a teasing manner. "You wouldn't want to jinx yourself."

* * *

"Fuck!" Butch groaned in defeat, letting the video game controller in his hand fall to the ground. He hung his head low, ignoring the bragging smirk Buttercup held next to him.

They were in the school's library. After much convincing, they got Dexter to hook up each of his gaming systems in the media room of the building in order to allow them to extend play time well into the night.

For their three day weekend, the two have been playing any and every multiplayer game they could get their hands on. It first started with a series of fighting games to help get Butch's brewing anger to simmer down. It took about six straight hours of senseless and gory video game violence for the dark-haired male to crack a real smile.

A smile Buttercup grew fond of when they were in Statesville together. Back before Butch got sucked into the destructive tornado that was his breakup with Blossom.

"How many times did I have to tell you that I'm unbeatable at _Mario Kart_?" Buttercup boasted playfully, nudging Butch's shoulder.

"You got lucky," Butch argued. He was being bit of a sore loser at the moment since Buttercup had beaten him at most of the games they played over the past couple of days. "If the blue shell didn't come at me right at the end, you would be eating your words."

"But I'm not," she smirked victoriously.

Butch rolled his eyes but a smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You're such an awful winner."

"And you're a sore loser."

He shrugged his shoulders, nodding along without any disagreement. A small yawn escaped his lips. His eyes grew heavy from the action. The want for sleep instantly probed through his mind.

Staying up until three in the morning the past couple of days were starting to get to him. He glanced at his phone—a new one he was able to get thanks to having some money left over from his second quarterly check. Butch narrowed his eyes at his phone notifying him of a few missed calls from an unknown source. A number he has been getting a lot of calls from lately since getting his new phone. He cleared out the notification and then glanced at the time.

They have been out an hour longer than normal, seeing it was four in the morning.

"We should head out," he said quietly, allowing himself to yawn once more.

Buttercup nodded, acknowledging how tired Butch looked. She knew he was ready to knock out and sleep away the entire Monday they had free.

His craving for slumber was not mutual. For Buttercup, sleep has become elusive. She spent hours tossing and turning from her mind being a jitter. Her stomach swirled endless; churning for an unknown reason to her. Only when Buttercup was mentally exhausted, could she sleep.

In recent days, it was impossible to get a single peaceful moment in her head. Her brain producing way too many thoughts to understand what was even being said. It was like trying to read a novel in a foreign language. A jumbled mess of words, sentences, and phrases but none of it was able to be grasped upon.

The two made their way out of the library, heading in the direction of the girls' dorm. Despite Buttercup's protests, Butch always tried to walk her home and make sure she was safe. His dislike of the thought of her walking alone at night, overpowered any argument she could make against it.

Besides, Buttercup kind of liked the extra time she got to spend with him. Not that she would ever tell him though. Or anyone.

"You know, as much as I thought it was a stupid idea," Butch began, glancing over at Buttercup. His fingers laced together behind his head as they walked at a deliberately slower pace. "Playing video games did take my mind off of everything. I don't feel as… _Anguish_? Is that the right word here?" Buttercup chuckled, signaling with her hand that it was so-so. "Well I'm going to use it."

"I'm not going to stop you," she shrugged off.

Butch snorted to himself, "Blossom would have."

Buttercup felt her mood crash and burn at the mention of Blossom's name. Even when he was no longer angry, his focus was still on the redhead.

"She would have corrected me and give me that look she uses when she feels superior," he remarked bitterly.

Buttercup cocked an eyebrow, caught off guard by Butch's resentful words towards Blossom. It may be the first time she has ever heard him bad talk her.

"You dare speak ill of Blossom?" Buttercup questioned in a teasing manner. "My, have you done a one-eighty this weekend."

Butch seemed to fidget a little from her words. A part of him winced at the realization of what he had said. "I mean, I still love her," he backtracked.

Buttercup met his eyes, displaying her disapproval. " _Right._ "

He removed his hands from behind his head, lifting them to signal no harm. "Look. I still want to be with her and all. But with this time apart, I am seeing some of the flaws in our relationship and in her. Like how she is super self-rigorous or how she never wants to talk about her life in New York. Then there's the fact she was able to move on _so fast_ —You know, during our whole relationship, I was lucky enough if she posted a picture with just the two of us. I think, over the nearly two years we were together, there was a total of five photos where it was obvious we were in a relationship and not a group shot or some shit. But then her and Brick start dating for a few weeks, and she already has two pictures with him on her _Instagram_ ," Butch jabbered. There was no hint of outrage or frustration. His tone remained neutral, simply explaining an observation he had made.

His calmness was refreshing. He has not experienced a flash of anger since the night they first started playing video games. With his lack of outrage, it sort of made Buttercup also take a step back and become less focus on her wrath towards Blossom. Instead, Buttercup was starting to feel exhausted by her resentment. Anger was a tiring and never ending emotion.

An emotion she no longer wanted to be a key aspect to her life. Yet, for the past couple of months, she has let it consume her. Letting herself get deeper involved in drama she was barely apart of when it all started.

Butch's nonchalant behavior woke her up to this realization. Now Buttercup just wished for the school year to be over with and for all the drama surrounding her to disappear.

"I guess she _really_ likes Brick," she mumbled, not wanting to participate in the conversation anymore. She was fearful of igniting her fury again with a backhanded comment.

"Oh yeah, she does," Butch nodded, a flash of sourness sprouting from him. "I know she has already slept with him."

Buttercup abruptly stopped her footing, floored by Butch's confession. Her lime green eyes widened from shock.

"You what? How?" She stammered.

Butch shrugged with a nonchalant ease despite the reality of the fact has been eating away at him since discovering the truth. "The other day, I found an open condom wrapper in the wastebasket of my bathroom. I know it's not mine since I haven't had sex since December and Brick's too much of a clean freak to let that stay in there too long."

Buttercup felt her face reddened at the thought of Butch having sex. Long ago, the thought would have disgusted her, especially after walking in on him and Blossom once last spring. Now, she was oddly flustered by the idea. Sure, she mostly saw more of Blossom than she needed to that day but Buttercup did catch a glimpse of him. His flush and sweaty face was unable to contain the amusement he felt from the situation as Blossom tried her best to cover them both up with a blanket.

His infectious laughter and smug grin was firmly branded in her mind at the moment. The thought of wanting to see what Blossom had covered of him, was quickly shot down and buried deep away in her mind in hopes of never being released again.

She hoped Butch would not notice the rattled state she was in as he continued. "And I picked up on how Brick has been washing his sheets more often than normal. He literally re-did them last Monday night after cleaning them Sunday morning."

"Gross," Buttercup cringed, wrinkling her nose up in disgust.

"I know," Butch sighed. He shook his head, warding off the negative thoughts he felt trying to invade his mind. "But it's whatever. I'm no longer her boyfriend. Blossom can do whatever she wants. And if Brick is what she wants to do, then it's none of my business. Although, I do hope she gets him out of her system soon enough."

"Yeah…"

Buttercup felt a swell up of guilt growing inside of her again. Her and remorse were rapidly becoming the best of friends, it seemed.

If Butch truly knew the overlapping dates of Blossom's sexual relations with Brick, then he would have a vastly different opinion. She wished she could tell him. At this very moment, it seemed like a good opportunity. It was right on topic where it would not seem malicious or out of left field, but Buttercup resisted any urges.

Butch had just gotten over his aggression towards the break up. He was becoming his old self again. Buttercup did not want to ruin it and make him heated over something in which would not matter anymore after they graduate. Not to mention, she was simply exhausted from partaking in the drama any further.

However, she was still stuck defending Blossom's dirty secret. A position, Buttercup felt she was going to regret one day.

* * *

With no class for the day, the Academy's campus was quite bare. A few classmates could be spotted but for the most part, Blossom felt alone. A rare moment of solitude without anyone lingering in the background.

She took the opportunity to take up a spot under the grand oak tree in the courtyard. The large roots of the elder plant surrounded her, disrupting the flat land. Sunlight peeked through the leaves with a slight breeze brisking against them.

A textbook, a pen, and highlighter laid beside her while a notebook sat in her lap; her attention focused steadily on her studies. Every now and then, she would look up to take in the beauty of the nature around her.

On the fifth time she paused her work, Blossom found Robin in the distance. The brunette raising an eyebrow as she recognized the redhead from across the courtyard at the same time as Blossom did.

Blossom did not pay any mind to this, brushing off Robin and returning to solving vector equations for her calculus class. As she was about to finish a problem, a pair of dirt covered, wore-out white _Converses_ were in her line of view. She dipped her head back, glancing up to find Robin standing before her.

The redhead kept her facial expression at a minimal. With her attempts to better herself, Blossom knew she had to let go of any petty grudges she may have—meaning, she was going to be making a conscious effort to at least be decent to Robin despite their past.

"Hey," Blossom greeted in a friendly tone that may have came off the smallest bit forceful but it was a try. "How are you?"

Robin furrowed her eyebrows, snorting at Blossom's question.

"Like you care."

"I do," the redhead shrugged, glancing her eyes back down at the pages of her textbook. "But if you don't want to tell me, it's fine."

"No, no. I will," Robin grinned wickedly despite Blossom not noticing. She took a seat in front of the pink-eyed girl. Her hands supported her upper body; her fingers sprawled out into the perfectly maintained, warm grass. "In fact, things are about to become _pretty_ sweet for me."

"Is that so?" Blossom asked in interest, her eyes still glued to her math problems. Her hand writing in a swift pace as she solved a new problem. "I'm glad."

"You should be." An dark eyebrow arched pointedly with her words. A mild wind brushed through her long, mossy brown hair. "Since you're the very reason why—or at least, you're careless mistakes will be."

Blossom laid her pen against the paper of her notebook. She lifted her head up, meeting Robin's eyes, taking note to the mischievous nature behind her baby blue eyes. Blossom felt her pulse accelerate, her heart pounding loudly in her chest.

Despite this, she tilted her head innocently, "What do you mean?"

Robin chuckled darkly, removing her hands from where they were rooted into the ground, leaning forward towards Blossom.

"You don't pay much attention to the rumor mill about you, do ya?"

Blossom shook her head.

She did entertain the whispers about her other classmates from time to time to keep up with the social life on campus; but when it came to her or her friends, Blossom tended to not want to hear what others had to say. It was enough for her to attempt to fill into their perfect image of her but having to conform to every bit of chatter about herself? Blossom knew she could not bend herself out of shape for a little bit of hear-say.

Despite whatever was said about her, bad or good, her classmates still admired her. It was a blessing and a curse, Blossom had discovered; but lately, she did not care about what her classmates thought of her or what was said behind her back.

Her image was not everything to her anymore. Being a better person was.

"Well," Robin smirked. "Then allow me to enlighten you."

"Okay…" Blossom said skeptically. Her hands fiddled nervously with the fabric of the sundress she wore.

"Obviously, there has been many, many, many words whispered into my ears about you, Blossom," the brunette began. "None of them have ever intrigued me. None seemed believable or capable of being proven. I had to disregard whatever I heard, sadly."

Blossom scrunched her face together, perplexed by where Robin was going with this. Her mind repeatedly telling to not say anything incriminating, in fear of where this may go.

"However." A crooked smile flashed across her face. "There was a story rustling around for a short time that caught my interest." Robin lowered her chin, keeping her eyes dead set on Blossom's. "And it wasn't really until Mitch gave me the idea to take you down, that I did take some time to investigate into it."

There was a flash of annoyance on Blossom's face, outraged by the revelation of Mitch and Robin plotting her downfall.

"Robin, what—"

"People said you were going to cheat on Butch with Brick," She interjected over the redhead.

Delight flooded her system as Robin watched Blossom cowering down, tightening her jaw. Soft pink eyes sent daggers to the brunette. Robin ignored her harsh stare, continuing on.

"At first, I thought it was just another thin-layered story but then I saw you and Brick having an awfully intimate moment at the homecoming court meeting. So I asked around. I found out about how Brick walked you back to your dorm room when you were fighting with Butch at the beginning of the year. I learned about a instance where you and Brick got pretty close on the football bleachers before his teammate interrupted you."

Robin paused, letting out another vindicated grin as Blossom grew more and more smaller with her information.

"Then there was a few saying they saw you almost kiss him outside of the math hall last November, and then again by the gym after a basketball game. Some saw you holding his hand during the blizzard announcement in the mess hall. They saw how cozy you were with him at the Christmas party. A couple swore you went upstairs with him at that New Year's party of your's. Others noticed how you and Brick would miss class at the same time. How it was hard to not spot the hickeys on his collarbone during swim practice—and when counting on the fact that if he was hooking up with any other girl on campus, they would not be able to resist the urge to brag about landing the immaculate Brick Adams. I mean," Robin let out a wryly chuckle, angling her head to a degree. "If you were trying to keep a secret, you failed to realize how many eyes were watching you this whole time… but then again, it doesn't surprise me, considering how egocentric you both are."

"I don't… I don't know what you're talking about," Blossom fumbled.

The redhead's thoughts berated her for tarnishing her progress by her weak lie. She should not have but Robin knowing her dirty secret, was not ideal. There was no assuming what the brunette would do with such information, which was why Blossom made the predictable decision to deny her allegations.

Her accurate and completely solid allegations.

"I thought you would say that," Robin smirked, digging into the pocket of her jeans. She tapped on the screen of her phone while continuing to speak to Blossom. "I'm not sure if you realize this, but we share a wall. _A paper thin wall_."

All of the color from Blossom's face instantly left her face. Her porcelain skin becoming a pristine, ghostly white. A cold sweat broke out against her forehead.

She thought about getting up and leaving but Robin's phone was shoved in front of her face. A black screen with a play button displayed. Pink eyes glanced up at Robin's, finding them daring her to press play. Blossom gulped roughly, hesitantly tapping against the touch screen.

Robin had recorded the video with a timestamp displayed across the blank dark screen. It was from a particular day in January. The date in which was firmly branded in her brain already.

It was the day she and Brick had sex for the first time together.

Blossom decided to not give too much credit to the date. It was only a date, she figured. There was nothing incriminating about a timestamp and a blank screen.

But the sound began to proceed out loud.

The sounds were what made Blossom's stomach twist into rough knots. The urge of wanting to vomit crossed her mind as she listened to what should have been a private moment between her and Brick. Quiet moans of physical ecstasy and breathless calling of his name. The constant low noise of bed springs were amplified in her ears, making them grow hot out of embarrassment and fear. Brick, undeniably, groaning out, " _Fuck, Bloss_ ," repeated endlessly in her mind.

"You can't deny this, now can you?"

Blossom narrowed her eyes at the brunette, pushing the phone out of her sight. "You recorded us?" She whispered harshly. Her eyes grew warm from the unsettling position she was in. "Do you know how invasive that is? How indecent? And creepy?"

"I am," Robin nodded. She waved her phone in the air for a moment, "And I have more copies in case you threaten me to delete it or if you try finding someone to hack into my computer."

The redhead took in a deep breath. She tried to calm herself down. To find a way out of this. Blossom was not going to admit defeat to Robin Snyder of all people.

Her focus went back to the locked phone laying on the grass between them. Blossom's chest felt as if someone was stepping onto it, deflating her from any air that could possibly fill her airways. The inescapable claustrophobia from abruptly having her back pushed up against a figurative wall.

She had been outsmarted. Robin had the perfect evidence to ruin her, and Blossom was not even mad about it. It was karma serving her for the poor decisions she has made towards the blue-eyed girl. The past few years spent belittling Robin and giving her the short end of the stick. Blossom knew she deserved this and should not be so blindsided by Robin taking action against her.

However, it did not excuse how violated Blossom felt by it and disturbed by Robin's choice in revenge.

Furthermore, Blossom had to concede that the brunette was right. After hearing all the occasions where her and Brick were careless with their flirtations, Blossom slowly realized how reckless they truly were. She thought this was only a secret within her friend group but, in fact, the entire school had their own suspicions to the truth.

Everyone but Butch.

"You're going to tell Butch," Blossom mumbled solemnly.

"I could, but I would get nothing out of it," Robin answered, twirling a finger with the ends of her stringy hair.

The redhead pinched the bridge of her nose, knowing where this was heading now.

"You're going to blackmail me."

" _Correct_."

"What do you want?" Blossom sighed.

Robin stared at her like a laser. "I want to be included. To be seen. To get the recognition I was supposed to have all these years."

"Popularity?" The pink-eyed girl concluded. She blinked back at Robin, unable to understand why. "You're doing all of this for a few months of everyone knowing your name."

"No," Robin answered firmly. Her baby blue eyes narrowed. "I'm doing this because I want to be someone. That's why I'm going to become a fixture in your social circle even past graduation. You may have everyone here eating out of the palms of your hands but you also have a large social media following. A name for networking. Access to any exclusive parties you want because of your money. With you, I can be a name to remember."

Blossom shook her head at the brunette's plan. Her plan of using Blossom simply for her wealth and status. "No. Absolutely not. I rather tell Butch than do this," she replied.

Blossom was telling the truth. She has been considering the possibility of telling Butch about the real reason for their breakup for a couple of weeks now—she has only been waiting for the perfect time to do so when things were not so heavy between them; when Butch has officially seemed to have moved on—but with Robin's threat, now may be the time to do so.

Robin leaned back, using her hands to support her weight once more.

"I have the video prepared to be sent to your parents too," she smirked, her chin tilted a degree. "And also some associates of them. You know, _the conservative ones_. Anyone who would have a large influence on them."

Blossom was reconsidering the thought of throwing up. Somehow, this was her worse nightmare despite it never being a conjured up idea before today.

Getting her parents involved meant way too many things. They would found out she was no longer a virgin like they expected her to be. They would become ashamed by her exploits if it was sent to their associates. They may disown her for dirtying their name.

While she felt physically ill, Robin was as smug as ever, watching in delight as Blossom panicked through various thoughts. It took a few moments of reluctance for Blossom to come to terms with what was going to happen. As of now, she had to follow through with Robin's blackmail.

She would allow Robin into her world of status until she found a way to fix the mess she had created.

"Okay…" Blossom mumbled in defeat, looking down at the math problems on her lap. Her thoughts finding it ironic how these formulas were much easier to solve than her own life.

Robin arched an eyebrow, "Are you agreeing?"

"Do I really have a choice?"

The brunette grinned widely, "I'm glad you are able to understand. I was afraid you were starting to grow less intelligent over these past few months." She then pointed her chewed down fingernail at Blossom, "One more thing." Blossom glanced back up at Robin bitterly, waiting for what else it was that she had to say. "You cannot tell Brick about this."

Blossom opened her mouth to ask why but closed it immediately. Her mind perplexed by Robin's terms.

She was left in this agony and a state of mild shock by the events that transpired minutes after Robin left in a delighted state. Blossom wanted to get back at Robin, to tear her down but she was not going to be that person anymore.

She did not want to be the mean girl in which she succumbed to being during the past few years.

Instead, she was going to find a fair way to end Robin's blackmail. And without Brick's help, it seemed as if it was on her to carry out this task on her own.

* * *

"Miss. Morbucks," Him acknowledged, nodding at the redhead who entered the room.

"Good morning, Principal Him," Princess grinned with an mischievous glint in her eyes, taking a seat in one of the two chairs in front of Him's desk. She smoothed out the fabric of her skirt before beginning to speak. "I was wondering if you took the weekend to consider my proposition?"

"I did."

"And?"

"I'm not entirely sure if it could work out," Him revealed. Princess' face dropped for a second at his answer before her smile grew more wicked. "It seems a little too last minute, and with Spring Break a month and a half away from now, I do not know if it is necessary."

"What about those who can't afford a plane ticket back home for Spring Break? Or those who are choosing not to go home? I'm sure they would disagree with you," she argued.

"Perhaps."

"And I understand if it is last minute but you do have to keep in mind, it has been about seven months since most students have seen their parents and vice versa. A lot of my classmates have spoken to me about how homesick they are. You should know how being homesick does put a damper on one's mood. And unhappy students means less productivity. Less productivity means a slip in grades, and grade slips mean—"

"I get it, Miss. Morbucks," Him grumbled.

"Well then, you must get that having the chance to see their parents, for just one weekend, may solve the brewing problem you have."

"Yes, I can see how that may help…" the principal considered. Claws for hands began stroking Him's goatee.

"Plus, the Morbucks family will be providing all expenses paid airfare for family members willing to come and also boarding at one of our hotels nearby. Also if we can, I do plan for "Parents Weekend" to occur at least a month from now, which makes everything not so last minute—planning wise, that is," Princess finished, ending with a dazzling smile.

"You sure your father is willing to pay for all of this?" Him questioned.

Princess nodded, "Daddy has been looking for some good PR lately and feels my idea may help."

"Uh huh…"

Him glanced at the computer screen on the desk, typing into the keyboard. There was a few minutes of nothing but the keys of the computer being punched in by Him's claw-like hands being heard between the two before Him spoke up again.

"I will need to talk to my staff but I believe "Parents Weekend" will happen after all."

"Fantastic," Princess smiled. What she was expressing to her principal may seem to be a kind and caring facade but underneath it, laid the truth. A malicious and vengeful truth. The redhead stood from the office chair, heading for the door but stopping short a step, turning back to Principal Him for one last suggestion. "Oh. And I would make sure to have the Blanchette family as a top priority invite. We could give a gracious thank you for all the donations they have made over the years. That and I just know Blossom is _dying_ to see her parents..."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Hey everyone!**

 **So I took a pretty long break from this story. I'm just going to put it out there, I'm not entirely sure if I like this piece of work anymore. I originally made the outline for this story about four years and a lot has changed for me since then in terms of storytelling. There's a lot of ideas I'm not into anymore and while I can drop a few plot threads, there's many things I wish I can change but cannot unfortunately due to a large amount of build up already made in previous chapters. I also feel like there is a standard I am not meeting with this story―Or at least, with the beginning chapters. I am trying to bring up the quality of writing since I believe my writing has matured more over the past year. And even though this is not exactly my favorite to write for, I promise to finish this story and complete it's sequel no matter what. Furthermore, I'm hoping I rekindle the enjoyment I once had for this story originally.**

 *****I'm about to ramble, so just a warning to you in which you can skip if you please*****

 **One thing I want to say (which I should have addressed at a much sooner date), is I know the Reds are... for a lack of better words, not everyone's cup of tea. I know it is a cop out to say but I intentionally made them that way. I went into this story knowing there was a chance they would not be liked but I hoped they would be able to find a way for redemption or at least understanding as they can be complicated at times. This would be brought by their (or lack there of) character development, as Blossom was shown to be at her worse in the earlier chapters; where she made some pretty terrible decisions. She is currently trying to redeem herself as of now in the story, becoming the Blossom that is more accustomed to. While Brick's true nature is shown through later chapters. However in this story, he mostly serves as a static character to the others.**

 **While Blossom finds flaws in herself and wants to improve, he does not. While Buttercup is trying open herself up more to others and become compassionate, he does not. While Bubbles is able to admit how much she longs for a connection with her dad and is open about how the abandonment of a paternal figure has impacted her life, Brick is not. While Butch is allowing himself to adapt to a new version of himself instead of settling for the old, Brick would rather stay the same. While Boomer does not want to be reduced into what others believe of him, Brick does not care to change their opinion.**

 **The main theme of _Fast Times_ is recognizing the ability to change and going for it. All characters but Brick are at the point. His recognition is not until very later and mostly achieved in the sequel to this story.**

 **Back to the Reds, it's fine if you don't like them. It's fine if you still like them. Their characterization isn't so black and white, so having varying opinions is actually welcoming to me. I do know I could have done a better job at their portrayal as I feel there is a bit of inconsistency in earlier chapters. The choices I made for their relationship were simply made because I wanted to craft a dynamic between them that isn't usually found. And it does suck that the Reds (their relationship) can be a lacking part in this, in my opinion, since the Reds are my personal favorite of the color-code pairings. An objective I had when starting my other story, was to prove to myself that I can write a good version of the Reds.**

 **But I do want to make the acknowledgment that, when it comes to the Reds, this is Blossom's story. Not Brick's. And not their relationship. So while her relationship with him may be a large part of her story line, it mainly is to add to her overall one. Brick's story is to come in the sequel, where their relationship adds to his story line but is not the main aspect.**

 **Okay, so that's about it. I'm feel I may have came off rough, a little preachy, or/and condescending; so apologies for that. I simply wanted to explain something that has been―not bothering me― but a lingering thought for months now. But again, I do apologize for rubbing anyone the wrong way.**

 *****End of ramble*****

 **On a side note, it was brought to my attention a few times about the grammatical mistakes I had made in the previous chapters. In the long break, I did a large overhaul of each chapter posted and re-edited them to get rid of the extremely obvious mistakes. I was slight embarrassed by the mistakes I had made, not going to lie, but it was definitely a learning lesson of why I shouldn't edit until two in the morning, lol. So thank you to those who let me know.**

 **As it is the season of giving this month, I am planning to provide content once a week this month. So look for the next chapter for this story in a week (and for those who enjoy my other story, I will be updating _Falling Star_ the week after. Then I have a little project I've been working on for the following week).**

 **Until next time, thank you to everyone who took the time to read this chapter (And a special thank you to those who read** **my Author's notes and don't hate me, lol).**


	23. Forgive & Let Grease

This was it.

Opening day for the musical was tonight. Months worth of sweat, sore throats, tired muscles, and getting the songs stuck in one's head; all would result in the night.

Butterflies and show jitters were common among the participants as they had one last rehearsal. Ms. Sedusa had called in all the actors to go through one final run of their lines before heading off to wardrobe and makeup.

Bubbles pushed herself to be fully there for the rehearsal. The harsh spotlight heated against her eyes as she spoke to four of her classmates in which were playing the pink ladies. When Princess began speaking as Rizzo, Bubbles was given a moment to catch her breath and calm down her nerves.

To forget the lingering and disheartening feelings she felt from her adventure to San Mateo two weekends ago. While her and Boomer were better than ever since their fight, Bubbles was still recovering from meeting her dad. There was a heaviness in her chest that was inescapable. Every morning, she woke up to the reminding thought of how he never wanted her and never would.

Her heart was broken. Bubbles knew she needed time to heal completely. She had hoped continuing on with the musical would help with doing such, but really, Bubbles could not wait until it was over.

At the moment, the last thing she wanted to do was to be the center of attention.

However, she had made a commitment and Bubbles was going to make the most of the situation.

"Cut!" Ms. Sedusa announced with her phone in hand. She accepted an incoming call, looking at her students. "I'll be just a moment."

As she left the auditorium, the others began to converse with each other to kill time. Bubbles resisted the urge to make conversation with anyone as she wanted to be alone. She made her way over to the edge of the stage, taking a seat. Her eyes traced over the rows and rows of velvet red chairs of the space, envisioning what it would look like when full.

While most did not notice, Princess spotted her act of isolation quickly. She made her way to the blonde, a mischievous grin on her face. The blonde was simply giving her easy ammo to mess with her for fun. Princess took another step towards her, becoming three feet away from the blue-eyed girl. Her attention focused entirely on Bubbles' blonde curls.

This made her unable to notice the small puddle of sweat in which her heel slid under. Her body moving forward as she fell feet first off of the stage right in front of Bubbles. Her ankle landing awkwardly under her body weight as she bumped her head against the wooden stage.

"Oh god!" Bubbles gasped, jumping down to attend to Princess. The others in the space rushed over to the edge of the stage to see what happened. "Are you okay?"

Princess rubbed the back of her head, "Of course I'm not okay! I just fell off the stage!" She winced as she tried to move her ankle. "Holy shit!" Her fingers touched her skin lightly, feeling a throbbing pain shooting through her body. "I think… I think I messed up my ankle," she murmured, glancing up to meet Bubbles' eyes out of fear.

"That would mean—"

"Oh fuck my life—"

"All right, let's get back to rehearsing—" Ms. Sedusa stopped mid way on her route back into the auditorium. Her eyebrow arched as she noticed a student on the ground. "What happened?"

"Princess fell off the stage!" One of the individuals on stage shouted back to her.

Ms. Sedusa rushed over to Princess' side. "Are you okay?"

"I already answered this. I'm obviously not!"

"She thinks she messed up her ankle," Bubbles said quietly to her director.

Bright green eyes widened at the thought. "Please tell me that you can push through the pain for tonight."

"Unless you want to give me a handful of painkillers—"

"I can't give a student painkillers," Ms. Sedusa huffed out in disappointment by her ridiculous suggestion.

"Aren't those super addictive anyways?" Bubbles questioned, gaining indifferent stares from the two, notifying her to their lack of interest in answering her.

"Then I can't…" Princess let out a heavy breath. Her face grew red as her eyes watered. She began to hyperventilate as a hissy fit was coming over her. "I can't be apart of the musical! I was the star of the show—"

"Ummm…" Bubbles mumbled under her breath as Princess continued.

"Daddy was going to come! I was going to be the center of attention! Now I have to go to some dumb, dirty hospital like a commoner!"

"Riley, Warren," Ms. Sedusa called calmly despite the obvious annoyance she felt from Princess' meltdown. "Call you help Princess up and take her to the clinic for now?"

The two males nodded, jumping off the stage as Princess began to protest.

"You will not take me to that nasty clinic! The nurse will only be able to give me aloe and an ice pack! It's not worth me getting infested by all of your filthy germs!" She shouted as the two carried her out of the auditorium. Her shrills were still heard from down the hall.

"Okay," Ms. Sedusa said after a beat, glancing up at the remaining members on the stage. "Who was Princess' understudy?"

"I think it's Amelia," Dee Dee stated.

"Great, where is she?"

"Yeah," a girl named Melissa said sheepishly. "Princess got her to quit about three weeks into rehearsal. Something about there only being room for one Rizzo."

"God dammit," Ms. Sedusa said under her breath, only being heard by Bubbles. The blonde widened her eyes, surprised by her director's desperate nature. The green-eyed woman put on a professional but forced smile as she looked over her students. "Okay then. Who here knows some of Princess' lines?"

The group stared each other down, looking for the answer for Ms. Sedusa's question.

A tall blonde stepped forward. Her hand raised halfway.

"I used to run lines with her almost every Friday," Dee Dee pointed out. "I was practicing as Sandy during those times but I think I know most of Rizzo's too."

"Great!" Ms. Sedusa said hastily. "We found our new Rizzo." She glanced down at her watch. "And with only five hours to spare. I need someone in hair and makeup to make adjustments to the Rizzo wig. For the rest of us, let's get back to work people!"

* * *

Buttercup was making her way around campus, heading for a picnic table in the courtyard. She would occasionally say hello or give nods of acknowledge to those around her. There was a certain pep in her step as she approached a table.

In view, Bubbles and Boomer sat together. The couple were speaking solely to each other, not bothering to notice Buttercup.

Buttercup did not care, however. Her eyes were focused on one person in particular. A subtle smile took form across her face.

Forest green eyes watched her with mutual interest. Butch stood from his seat on the table, taking a few steps forward before enveloping Buttercup in his arms.

"Good morning, B," he grinned, pulling her closer to him by gaining a good grip on her waist. "Slept well?"

"Of course," she said softly. Her gaze lowered down to his lips. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, "After last night, I should have…"

Butch let out a subtle laugh. His tall frame slowly bending down to get them at an even eye level.

"You know I always have to please the girl I love," He expressed huskily. His lips went to her jawline, leaving butterfly kisses. Words were spoken lowly in between breaths. "You... Are... The... Love... Of... My... Love... Buttercup..."

Buttercup smiled happily at his declaration. Butch loved her. _She was the love of his life_.

Buttercup did not realize how much she wanted to hear such words from him. How much she truly craved his love, Buttercup registered; as he craved her's.

As he captured her lips, Buttercup let herself melt into the kiss. Her heart was on her sleeve for all to see, and for once, she was not scared by the idea. In fact, all was right in the world. In her mind…

 _Wait!_

Buttercup took a step back, her mind feeling like it had been chopped into many pieces and thrown into a blender.

Butch did not love her. _He loved Blossom_. This was not real. This could not be real.

"What's wrong?" Butch asked. His eyebrow raised in confusion.

Buttercup shook her head furiously. Her hands dug into her short, dark hair, pulling at the roots. "You don't love me. This isn't real. This isn't real," she repeated to herself over and over again.

She felt a jerk in her body, the scenery area around her fading away. Her mind realizing she was correct. None of this was real.

None of it but her longing for Butch...

* * *

Buttercup launched herself up from her bed, clutching at her bedding. Her breathing uneven as she stared wildly at the space in front of her.

A space, in which, Blossom was occupying. The redhead was currently destroying their closet looking for―god knows what.

Blossom flashed a sheepish smile at the dark-haired girl, holding up her hands to signal no harm. "I'm sorry for waking you up. I tried my best to stay quiet."

Buttercup, against her better judgement, shook her head in a slow motion. "You didn't wake me up."

She ran a hand through her hair. Her mind was attempting to analyzed her dream. The obvious meaning behind it… _It frightened her_.

As she stared in the redhead's pink eyes, Buttercup pushed aside the feud between them. Her state of utter shock was more powerful than the fleeing bitter feeling she had at the moment. Right now, she needed someone to talk to. Someone who understood her and why she would have a dream _like that_.

"Oh."

"Blossom," Buttercup said cautiously, gaining the redhead's undivided attention. There was a hint of joy in her eyes from Buttercup not using a harsh tone towards her. "I just… I think I just had a dream about having a relationship with Butch and he told me I was the love of his life and we kissed, and _I enjoyed it_? Why would I enjoy such a thing?" She questioned in disbelief, her vision falling to her crumbled up bedspread. "Why would I even dream about that?" Her ears perked up at the sound of a light giggle. Lime green eyes darted up to narrow at Blossom. "What's so funny?"

Blossom shook her head once, indicating it was not suppose to translate for something malicious. Instead, she had an amused grin as she explained to Buttercup. "It's obvious, Butters. _You're in love with Butch_."

Buttercup felt her eyes beginning to bug out of her head. "In love with Butch?" She exclaimed loudly. "What? No! I would never!" She continued, her voice cracking along with her words. Her hand combed through her hair as she tried to figure out how Blossom could come to such an outrageous conclusion. "Sure, I like hanging out with him. And he's not like entirely hideous to look at face-wise nor is his body. Plus, he has good taste in music, video games, and movies. Maybe, I do like his smile a lot. And maybe I also find his dimple to be sort of adorable. Do I think about him more than I should? Yeah, sure. Do like his attention? Of course. Everyone likes to have the attention of their favorite person. And have I not been able to sleep well for the past few weeks because I'm thinking about him? Maybe so. But does that mean I'm in love with him? _Absolutely not_ ," Buttercup protested, folding her arms as she arched an eyebrow in waiting for Blossom to prove her otherwise.

Blossom returned the same expression, letting Buttercup come to the realization on her own. As her words hung in the air, the dark-haired girl quickly registered what she had said. Both of her hands dug into her hair as she stared down at her bedding.

"Oh my god," she whispered. " _I'm in love with Butch_ …"

"Yeah. You definitely are," Blossom said with a nod and a grin.

"Why?" She exasperated with frustration, glancing up at Blossom with desperate eyes. "Why did it have to be him? Why did I fall in love with him of all people?"

Blossom shrugged her shoulder. "It's not something you can control. _Trust me_ , I know," she huffed out. "Sometimes it can be a collaborative effort. Like you're dating someone and it just comes to you with time. Then it comes out of nowhere. For example, when you shouldn't fall for someone else because you're already in a relationship." Blossom pointed a finger at herself. Then she turned the same finger towards Buttercup. "Or when you fall for your friend without realizing it. Love can be a tricky thing."

Buttercup nodded along, understating she was correct. Falling in love with Butch, was something she could not control apparently. Especially when Buttercup was not even aware it was happening in the first place.

Now that she knew of her feelings for Butch, Buttercup could not help hyper-analyzing their relationship. Fear poured into her suddenly, leading her to be unable to find any way to calm herself down.

"I don't want this," she muttered. "I don't want to be in love with him." Buttercup grimaced as she heard herself, "Ugh... I do not like hearing the words 'in love with' and 'Butch' mashed up together."

The smile on Blossom's face faltered as she seemed disappointed by Buttercup's words. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want to ruin our friendship. Butch and I just started getting along. Things are absolutely great between us and I don't want to mess things up."

"You're scared."

"I'm not scared!"

"Yes, you are," Blossom said softly.

She took a hesitant step towards Buttercup's bed. Her pink eyes settled on the space at the foot of her mattress, silently questioning the idea of whether it was okay if she could sit down. It took Buttercup a moment to consider, but her head full of dark hair bopped up and down to signal a yes. Blossom took up the space, crossing her legs together as she met Buttercup's eyes with a sincere stare.

"Look, putting yourself out there, it is so freaking scary," Blossom began. "The doubts and nerves can get the best of you, and nothing seems possible. It's human for us to act such a way. But you know, getting the answer is so much better than living in constant anxiousness over the idea. Telling Butch how you feel is going to be incredibly terrifying, but you should do it for yourself. You'll feel a lot better about yourself if you did, and then you'll also have an answer. Which is either Butch feels the same way or he doesn't. It's not as frightening when you look at it that way, now is it?"

"It still is," Buttercup grumbled, unable to meet Blossom's eyes. "He wouldn't feel the same…"

"You don't know that for sure."

"I do, actually. He's still in love with you, so there's no point in me even considering any of this."

"Oh."

Blossom chewed down on her lip. A rush of guilt sweep over her. She had figured Butch may have still been interested in her but Blossom had hoped he was making an attempt to move on. From what Buttercup had stated, it sounded like Butch had barely made any progress.

A result, in which was wholeheartedly her own fault.

"I'm so sorry, Buttercup," Blossom said genuinely after a beat. "I know I keep messing up your life with my drama and I'm sorry. If Butch knew the truth, there would be no way he would still be into me. If I had been honest, none of us would be in this awful situation. I've been a horrible person for the last couple of years—and more so, last semester. And I'm just sorry for how I was. For all the things I said to you and did to you. I'm sorry I didn't listen or comforted you when you needed me. Most importantly, I shouldn't have burdened you with a secret that shouldn't even exist. Especially one that, if roles were reverse between us, I, admittedly, wouldn't have kept at all. I should have been a better friend to you. A better girlfriend to Butch..."

Blossom sucked in a tight breath, continuing on. "Buttercup, the truth is, I never deserved your friendship. Neither did I deserve Bubbles' or Boomer's. Butch's love, it should have never been invested into me. I was terrible to all of you for such a long time. I hid so much about myself and pretended who I was to the people I should have trusted from the start. And I know my apology is never going to make up for all of the things I have done. All the harmful things I've said." Blossom glanced down at Buttercup's bedding, picking at it. Her voice grew to a fragile whisper. "None of it will make up for what I did to Butch… Everyone has a right to hate me. Including you. Out of everyone, you and Butch totally should."

The redhead looked back up at Buttercup, becoming brave enough to meet her eyes. The dark-haired girl remained mum, shocked by Blossom's lengthy apology. In the past, she never would have admitted to her mistakes with such ease. With a genuine spirit to her words. It made Buttercup question if Blossom had truly turned a new leaf.

It surely sounded like she did.

"But I do want you to know that I am trying. I want to be a better person. I've been changing the way I think. I've been warming up more to others and learning to be kinder to myself and everyone I come in contact with. It's been a slow process and I know I wouldn't be a completely changed person in a matter of months. I know what I'm still capable of but it has been nice to feel good about myself for once. It's nice to be genuine and not be scared anymore. And it probably doesn't seem like I have since I just spent all this time talking about myself but I really wanted to say all of this because I'm not scared about what people thinking about me anymore. Therefore," Blossom paused, letting out a calming exhale. "You could tell Butch the truth whenever you want."

Buttercup widened her eyes, shaking her head in protest. "I can't do that."

"It's fine, Buttercup. It's been a long time coming and I really just need to be honest with him."

"No. You can't. He'll absolutely flip out. One little whisper about how you and Brick truly got together, and he'll be like a raging beast."

Blossom's lips remained together in a tight line. Her eyes flashed with the realization Buttercup was correct. She has spent too much time away from Butch, that she forgot about his anger for the moment until Buttercup brought it up.

"Oh god," she sighed, rubbing her temples. "There is truly no end to any of this."

"Not until we graduate, remember? And then you would no longer have any contact with him."

"Yeah… That's not to far off," Blossom nodded in agreement despite Buttercup not presenting her comment as an idea. "But I do wish I could just be open with him now."

"Why? To ease your guilty conscience?"

Blossom shrugged her shoulder. "Partly. But also to give him proper closure. So he knows he never did anything wrong. That he doesn't look back at our relationship, and have regrets about what he did. I just want to make sure he knows how much of a good person he truly is."

Buttercup remained quiet for a lengthy moment but made the decision to reply in a quiet tone. "That's actually really nice of you..."

"It doesn't matter though," Blossom inhaled before standing up from Buttercup's bed and heading for their closet again. She gave Buttercup a glance over her shoulder as she had her back facing her. "Just promise me that you'll tell him after graduation."

Buttercup nodded. It was a better promise than the last one Blossom made her keep. A promise Buttercup should have never agreed to. In retrospect, she was just as guilty as Blossom for keeping this charade up.

Instead of doing anything productive to fix the situation, Buttercup made it worse. When considering the way she has treated Blossom over the past few months, she has been nothing but overly aggressive and spiteful. It was not a way Buttercup wanted to be anymore.

The old Buttercup would continue to be shitty towards Blossom simply because she felt like Blossom deserved it. She would not even care for an apology from the redhead.

But the new Buttercup. The Buttercup in which was trying to change and be a more emotionally open person, saw how this was a big deal. Blossom apologized to her without being pushed to. The redhead took full ownership to all of her misdeeds. She even seemed genuinely sincere about it all.

Most importantly, Blossom finally wanted to put Butch first. It was a decision she came to all on her own. Sure, it was a little late for her to do so; but Buttercup kept in mind on how Blossom said she was trying to change.

Buttercup should know more than anyone else how hard the process could be. Perhaps, it was time for her to make amends with the redhead.

Holding onto a grunge was getting exhausting and Buttercup knew it was not good for her mentally to do so.

"Hey, Blossom," she said softly.

"Yeah?"

"I think I owe you an apology too."

Blossom shook her head furiously. "No... No, no, no. You don't have anything to apologize for."

"But I do," Buttercup pushed. "I kept bringing things up and stirring the pot. I wasn't that good to you as you think. I knew you had a thing for Brick before you even realized it. I should have sat you down and talked it out with you. I could have helped you make a decision without making things so complicated. Instead, I antagonized you the entire time and made you feel even more shitty about yourself—which, I'm not saying you didn't deserve, but it was none of my business for awhile."

"You were just looking out for Butch," Blossom countered gently. "You were defending him when he didn't have the chance to. You were being a good friend to him. I can't blame you for that."

"Was I though?" The green-eyed girl arched an eyebrow, leaning forward. "Or maybe a part of me was _so_ swept up in your drama because I was jealous?"

Blossom widened her eyes, "I don't think… No, you wouldn't do something like that."

"I don't know, Blossom. Who knows how long exactly I've felt… _this way_ about him? Even if I wasn't consciously aware of what I was doing, it doesn't mean I wasn't being petty."

"I think you're selling yourself short. You had valid reasons for being upset at me. And look, I've known you had a thing for Butch for about a month now. So I've had enough time to think over our previous fights, and never in any of our arguments about him, have I ever gotten the impression you were motivated by jealousy." Blossom shrugged her shoulder, "Maybe you were right about stirring the pot but I was the one who gave you the pot to stir with. I cheated on Butch. I started everything."

Buttercup remained quiet for a moment. She was growing more and more shocked by Blossom's behavior. In this conversation alone, the dark-haired girl was beginning to see small glimpses of the old Blossom. The one who she first became friends with.

However, there was also bits of the new Blossom. A more improved, wiser one. A person who was taking the time to learn from their mistakes and make some good out of them.

She was not bullshitting Buttercup. It was easy for the green-eyed girl to tell now. Blossom was truly becoming an honest person.

"...Did you really have to cheat on Butch?" Buttercup asked. Her voice cracked a little with the question.

Blossom took in a deep breath before answering. "I really want to say no. Truly, I do... I will admit, I never should have slept with Brick before breaking up with Butch. I really should have waited," she acknowledged, a strong sense of remorse in her tone for various reasons. One of the most recent, was Robin's blackmail lingering over her head. "But then, I don't think I could ever know the answer to whether I could have prevented the initial act of cheating. Like… _Okay_. So Butch and I, we worked for so long because we needed each other. Butch wanted someone to care about since he never got to with his family, and I wanted for someone to love me unconditionally. It's messed up, I know but that's the truth. That was what our relationship was truly made from. Sure, I did love him back, because how could you not love Butch?"

"Don't ask me," Buttercup dismissed with a puff. "I fell in love with him without realizing it…" She grimaced again at her words. "God, that does not get any easier to handle no matter how many times I say it out loud."

"You will eventually," Blossom laughed quietly at Buttercup's distraught nature. She then cleared her throat, continuing on with her answer. "So anyways, our relationship was basically built on this unspoken agreement we had with each other. And it worked because there was nothing making us truly question what we were doing. Yeah, we fought a lot. Plus, Butch mainly fell for the artificial version of myself, but at the end of the day, we were only willing to put up with each other. But then Brick came…"

The redhead exhaled tiredly when acknowledging her current boyfriend. Her hand tucked a strand of hair behind her ear out of nervousness.

"Brick… He just came and messed up everything I believed I wanted. I realized, what Butch and I had, was not healthy. I shouldn't be with someone simply because I was afraid of not having love in my life anymore. Part of the reason why I cheated, was because I was scared of leaving Butch for Brick. Because it seemed crazy for me to throw everything away for some guy I didn't even know for more than a year. I cheated because I was too much of a coward to make a decision between the two. But the other part of the reason I cheated, was being I didn't come to that realization of how I shouldn't be with Butch until I was with Brick. Until I got a full glimpse of what it would be like to be with someone other than Butch. Until I experienced certain feelings that I never had for Butch. In a way, I needed to come to terms that I didn't have to settle for Butch. That there was someone else I could fall in love with and I didn't need to be scared of being my true self around."

"You're in love with him?" Buttercup whispered.

She did not understand why she was so shocked by Blossom's true feelings for her boyfriend. It should have been expected. But perhaps, Buttercup failed to realize how a part of her still wished Blossom would give up on Brick.

A part of her still held onto the blame towards him and how much damage he has caused in the seven months he has been at the Academy. Wreckage, Buttercup knew, Brick was not an ounce apologetic about.

At least with her apologies and genuine behavior, Buttercup knew Blossom has not spent all this time becoming what Brick wanted or influenced her to be, as the dark-haired girl and Boomer had originally assumed she would do. That Blossom was slowly becoming her own person in the right way.

Blossom nodded. "Yeah, I am. Brick… _he gets me_." Buttercup resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she did not want to see Brick in a positive light while Blossom continued on with her answer. "He doesn't care about me being perfect. Instead, he cares about me being happy with myself and growing as a person. He has shown me what it is like to not care about what others think and how to grow a thicker skin. He stuck by me after seeing me at my worst and wants to help me get to my best. With him, I'm not afraid of anything. I know you don't like him, but yeah… that's how I feel. He just… He _sees_ me. Without me even trying for him to. He just saw who I was and actually liked what he saw when I don't even like myself that much."

Buttercup glanced down at the floor, muttering to her roommate, "You know Butch would have done the same things if you would have let him."

The redhead pursed her lips, taking a moment to consider if it was true.

" _That's the thing_ ," she pointed out. "I never felt comfortable enough to let him. It's my fault for feeling such a way since Butch is an amazing and considerate person but I just could… _never_ do it," Blossom said in a shaky. "Sometimes I was scared about him getting disgusted by who I truly was. Other times I didn't see the point since he had fallen for the plastic version of myself. It was sort of too late for me to be like, ' _Hey, everything you know about me is a total lie and maybe our relationship is too_ '. Maybe I'm making excuses but I never found myself letting me get _too_ close with him. I should have noticed that a long time ago but I can't do anything about it now. And quite frankly, it just goes to show just how much he deserves someone so much better than me." Blossom slowly grinned brightly at Buttercup. " _Someone like you_."

Buttercup blinked at her in response as she digested every single word Blossom had spoken. This was the most insight conversation she has ever had with the redhead. It was nice to understand the psyche of Blossom for once and for her to gain a grasp on Blossom's decision making. When she had the true aspects from her, Buttercup could see why Blossom did cheat. She was not going to _ever_ agree or excuse her decision to do so, but Buttercup could see where she was coming from.

For once, Buttercup _saw_ Blossom. Warts and all. And she genuinely liked what she saw too.

Other than that, Buttercup was also mildly surprised by Blossom's positive reception to her being in love with Butch. Usually, the redhead was territorial about any guy she has romanced. Not to mention, she seemed to have been supportive of the idea even when they were fighting.

Either it meant Blossom truly did not care that much about Butch or that she has grown a lot as a person.

"You really want me with Butch, don't you?" Buttercup questioned, rubbing at her neck awkwardly.

"Of course," Blossom smiled. "I think you would be really good for each other. I've noticed how you keep each other grounded and how you've put each other first. It's hard for me not to be supportive."

"But isn't it weird for your ex-boyfriend to be with your friend?"

"Well, no—" Blossom paused. Her eyes widened at Buttercup's word choice. "Did you just say _friend_ _?_ "

"I think friend was not the right word to use right now _but_ …" Buttercup let out a small, sheepish grin escape from her lips. "It's kind of been a bitch to keep all this anger inside of me. And I can see that you've done some growing, Blossom. So yeah… I wouldn't say I forgive you nor will I forget what you did—and maybe I'm being foolish here—but I'm willing to give you _one last chance_ and for us to slowly fix our friendship."

Blossom could not contain how thrilled she was as she raced over to Buttercup's bed and wrapped her in a tight hug. Never mind that neither of them were particularly fond of hugs. Never mind how Blossom felt she was not worthy of Buttercup's friendship. The redhead was going to enjoy the moment and the chance to have her friend back one day.

"I am too," Blossom stated after pulling away.

"Clearly," Buttercup quipped.

Blossom chuckled lightly, "Yeah, I may have gotten a little _too_ excited there."

"Eh," she shrugged. "I rather have you express your feelings than becoming the ice queen again."

"Thanks," Blossom replied as her mind came to the realization she could finally ask a question she has been meaning to address. "By the way, this may be sudden, but does this mean you're still willingly to go on the spring break trip?"

Buttercup arched her eyebrow. In the months spent wrapped up in Blossom's drama, Buttercup had completely forgotten about spring break.

It was premature of her to agree to the plan after somewhat making up with Blossom, but the thought of chilling out on the beach after all the drama and stress that has plagued her… It sounded absolutely lovely. And it sure did beat being stuck on campus while everyone else was gone during the week.

"Let's see... A free trip to the Turks and Caicos? Hell yeah, I'm down still," Buttercup grinned.

* * *

"My, my, my. You sure do know how to pull off the whole fifties look," Boomer grinned as he approached Bubbles, who had been caught off guard by his appearance.

She had her back towards him as she was silently going over her lines in her head while waiting to get her makeup done by the vanities set up. Her baby blue eyes widened from shock by him being backstage.

"What are you doing back here?" she asked.

"To give you these," he gestured down to his arms, which were carrying a bouquet of sunflowers.

Her favorite flowers.

A appreciative smile spread across her lips, "Boomy. You didn't have to," she cooed, receiving the bouquet from his arms. Her eyes trailed over each flower, taking in their beauty. "But thank you."

"Of course," Boomer nodded. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his jeans as he grinned at her. "I just wanted to let you know that I _know_ you're going to kill it out there."

"I hope so," Bubbles said quietly, her anxious fears were coming over her and settling in her stomach.

"Hey. You didn't rehearse for two months for nothing," he acknowledged gently. "Besides, there's a reason why Ms. Sedusa picked you to be Sandy. She, _like me_ , knows how much potential you have inside of you. Anything you decide to dedicate your time to instantly becomes improved by a wide margin."

Bubbles cracked a slight grin. A small giggle escaped from her lips.

"Maybe you're right," she said bashfully. Her cheeks were warm from his praises.

He leaned forward, removing his hand from his pocket and gently gripping the back of her head. He planted a tender kiss on her forehead. His ocean blue reading over her face as he pulled away. A proud smile spread across his lips.

"You got this, Bubs," he whispered.

Bubbles nodded, becoming a bit more confident in herself. Her worries and pestering thoughts from the past two weeks; her many mistakes and failures in the few past months seemed to fade away for the moment. The heaviness. Her heartbreak. It was not at the forefront of her mind.

The show was to begin soon and Bubbles was ready to be at center stage. Boomer's kind words of reassurance made her feel at ease.

She was prepared to commit to her role now. Bubbles was ready to sing her heart out and dance until her joints hurt.

This was going to be her night.

* * *

"You want to tell me why Robin and Mitch are sitting with us?" Brick asked lowly into Blossom's ear. His crimson stare directed to the oblivious couple who sat next to her in the velvety chairs of the auditorium. They were waiting patiently for the play to start in a few minutes.

Besides having them sitting by her and Brick in order to be "seen", Blossom had to take a picture with Robin before entering the auditorium and post it on her _Instagram_. It was the second picture so far she had to upload for Robin's benefit. The brunette having gained fifty new followers from the last one. Not to mention, their classmates were spreading the blue-eyed girl's name like wildfire across the campus. Robin was becoming recognizable in the hallways once again and she was incredibly smug about it.

It had become apparent to the redhead just how much Robin's plan for gaining attention by using Blossom was quite actually well-thought out.

"I'm trying to be nice," Blossom said quietly. Her lips folded together tightly afterward, resisting the urge to tell him the whole truth.

She has wanted to tell him about the blackmail since Robin threatened her with it; but for obvious reasons, she could not. So instead, Blossom was stuck telling little white lies to him for the moment until she found a way to neutralize Robin's influence over her.

Blossom was forced to commit to a behavior she no longer wanted to be a characteristic of her's.

"I'm all for you trying to improve yourself, but…" He took one more second to hardened his stare on the two brunettes before shifting his eyes over to read Blossom's face. " _Robin and Mitch_? I don't really care about what people do but those two are pretty awful."

Blossom shrugged her shoulder to portray a sense of not caring, "I want to give them another chance."

" _Alright_ ," Brick said skeptically.

He watched as Blossom's eyes trailed down the aisle beside him. Whatever it was, it acquired her full attention. Brick glanced over his shoulder, finding Butch and Buttercup scanning their way through the crowd to find empty seats.

"You were right," he said. His eyes were still following them. "They are practically attached to the hip."

"Yeah…" Blossom murmured. She subtlety reached for his hand in attempt to get his attention. "I actually spoke to Buttercup today."

Brick arched an eyebrow, glancing back at her. "You did? Was this a good conversation or was this another ' _I hate Blossom_ ' type of talk?"

Blossom scrunched her nose at his second option, finding it to be a ridiculous choice of words. "It was a good one. An incredibly long, emotional, and overdue, good conversation."

"So you're friends now?"

"We're working on it," Blossom admitted. A soft, joyful smile spread across her lips. "Which, I'm more pleased about that than simply stating we're friends again. Makes it feel more genuine, you know?"

Brick grinned at Blossom's delighted nature. He may not like Buttercup, but Brick did know how important the dark-haired girl was to Blossom. Seeing her happy, easily made him share the same emotion.

He nodded to her. "Yeah, it does. It's good that you and her talked," Brick said sincerely.

"I know. She's even going on the spring break trip with us again. Granted, I think she agreed more for the free trip than wanting to be around me—which, I don't blame her—but it's nice that she is willing to go."

Brick raised his eyebrows for a moment before saving face. This part, he was not entirely ecstatic about but he was not going to be selfish when it came to Blossom.

"That's… _great_ ," Brick forced out.

Blossom chuckled at his attempt to be pleased by her news. She leaned over to him, resting her head on his shoulder. Her eyes focused on the red curtains concealing the stage.

"You're a bad liar."

"I'm actually _pretty_ good at it, thank you very much."

"Not when it comes to me."

"Maybe so…" He said after a beat. Another small laugh escaped from Blossom's lips. "You should be glad then."

"Oh, I am," Blossom grinned.

She glanced over to Butch and Buttercup once more. The two sat threes rows ahead to the right of them. They seemed to be engaged in a heavy conversation as neither were letting up for the other to speak longer than thirty seconds. From the angle she was at, Blossom could see the small, amused grin on Butch's lips. An obvious indication of how much he enjoyed their interaction.

In fact, she had seen that face before. The one he was giving to Buttercup. It was not one Butch had used on her. Instead, it was strikingly familiar to...

Perhaps Buttercup was wrong. Blossom noted happily. Maybe the feelings could be mutual.

Blossom could only hope that they were...

"We were right, by the way," Blossom whispered to Brick as the lights in the auditorium began to flicker before succumbing the entire space in darkness, alerting them that the play was about to begin.

" _We were_?" Brick repeated, catching on to her word choice.

"Yes," Blossom laughed lightly. "We were."

"And what may that be about?"

"You have to promise not to say anything," Blossom stated quickly, lifting her head up for a moment to met his eyes.

"You know I'm not one to spill secrets, Bloss."

"I know, I know," she replied before huffing out hot air. She laid her head back on his shoulder. His arm snaked around her, finding a home in the curve of her waist. "I just don't want to screw things up more than they already are."

"You don't have to tell me then. It's fine."

"Yeah… But it's hard for me to keep things from you," she said softly. Her chest grew heavy from the guilt she had to keep in from the blackmail.

"Yet you just teased me about the same thing," he quipped with a crooked smile.

"It's not the same."

"I think it is."

"Nope, it's not," Blossom countered. Brick opened his mouth to rebuttal but Blossom moved forward before he could. "Just promise me you wouldn't tell anyone."

Brick sighed lightly, "I promise."

"Okay… so Buttercup admitted to me that," Blossom lowered her voice even more. Her words becoming barely registrable. "She's in love with Butch."

Brick cocked his eyebrow, impressed by how him and Blossom were able to clock Buttercup's feelings for Butch.

"She just outright told you that?"

"More like she had a dream and didn't know what to do. And I just so happened to be the closest attainable person, which led to her realizing she… _you know_."

"Wait. She didn't know?" Brick questioned in disbelief. "Was she in denial or something?"

"Oh yeah. Deep in denial," Blossom nodded. "Buried pretty deep down type of denial."

"Damn."

"Right?"

"Is she going to do anything about it?"

"I don't know," Blossom admitted. "I tried convincing her to tell him but Buttercup doesn't want to mess up their friendship."

"Repressing her emotions… Yeah, that's never fun," Brick chuckled wryly, thinking back to the time when he had to keep his feelings for Blossom a secret.

"I know," Blossom breathed. "I just want to help her, but I'm the reason why things are so complicated for her already. So now I'm stuck hoping the universe or something plays in Buttercup's favor."

Brick pursed his lips in consideration before shrugging his free shoulder. "Who knows? Things may just work out for her," he said as the play began to start, ending the conversation between the two.

* * *

The lights above flickered on. The curtain was drawn together again to conceal the stage. Many members of the audience were getting up to make use of the intermission, yet Buttercup could not move from her seat.

She thought hanging out with Butch would not be _too bad_. How wrong was she.

Now that she knew about her… _feelings_ , Buttercup could not stop thinking about them. She could not stop thinking about how cute Butch looked when he smiled. Or how his laugh made her feel lighter than a feather. How much she just wanted to grabbed him by his shirt and kiss him.

It was so odd to feel so deeply about someone. For her to get all icky from a boy.

Well, Butch was not just some boy.

He just so happened to be the person she was in love with.

Which made sitting next to him during the musical so much harder than she originally thought. She could not lie that when he stood up from his seat, a breath of relief escaped from her lips.

"I'm going to the snack bar. You want anything?"

Buttercup shook her head no. Another annoying occurrence since discovering her feelings, her appetite was lacking. Instead, her stomach was constantly swirling with nerves too busy to concern her with the delight of food.

He furrowed his eyebrows, "Are you okay?"

Buttercup forced a smile. "Yeah. Totally," she said with a little too much of being "nonchalant" in her tone that it sounded incredibly fake. "I just…" She began to rub her temple. "Have a headache," Buttercup finished quickly, excited by having a plausible excuse. "Musicals are absolutely horrible."

Butch chuckled at her comment, "No kidding."

Buttercup watched as he walked up the aisle to the lobby of the auditorium where the snack bar was. She threw her head back into the seat she was in. Her hands covered her face. There was no way she could be around him like this.

Not when she was fully aware of her thoughts and feelings now.

"How's it going?"

Buttercup peeked through her fingers to find Blossom staring down above her. Long, loose orange curls curtained around her face. She sat up, turning in her chair to meet Blossom face-to-face. The row of chairs separating them.

"Miserable," she groaned.

"Really? When you came in, it seemed like you and Butch were doing great."

"Were you watching me?" Buttercup asked, an eyebrow arched.

Blossom rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "Only for a few seconds."

"You do know that we just sort of made up a few hours ago. Don't go ruining it, Blossom."

"Sorry," she said, her hands up to signal no harm. "But it's a good thing I was watching."

"I really don't think it was."

"I'm pretty sure I have a better understanding on how Butch looks when he wants someone than you do," Blossom countered with a playfully smug grin.

" _Right_ ," Buttercup sighed. She was quickly starting to realize how much she hated being reminded of Blossom and Butch's previous relationship. "So what? Let me guess, he looks at me that way?"

"No, he doesn't."

"Then what's so good about that?"

"Because the way he looks at you… It's the same way that Boomer looks at Bubbles. You know the, ' _I can spend the rest of my life listening to you talk_ ' kind of look?" Buttercup nodded hesitantly, swallowing at the thought Blossom was presenting to her. To have someone look at her like Boomer did to Bubbles… was a want she never realized she needed. "That's the look he gives you."

"Oh…" she said uneasily. "That's… That's great…"

"He may feel the same way about you," Blossom smiled softly. "He just may not realize it either. Which means, if you say something, Buttercup..."

Buttercup opened her mouth to disagree but the redhead's words halted her from doing so.

Perhaps she was right. What was so hard about telling Butch she was into him? It did not need to be a complicated monologue about her feelings or anything. She could simply say she liked him and get it over with. After that, it was Butch's decision to make.

Furthermore, if she got her feelings off of her chest, maybe she would not feel like such a wreck around him. She could go back to her usual self around him—except she may be more comfortable and confident enough to openly flirt with him then.

The only risk she had, was if Butch did not return her feelings, it had a chance of ruining their friendship. Or the chance they did date and it would end up in a disaster. While those two scenarios were frightening to her, they were things Buttercup could not solely control at the moment.

The only thing she could control, was letting Butch know how she felt.

And from what Blossom was saying...

"Maybe you're right," Buttercup mumbled. "I could—"

"I know you said you weren't hungry, but they had those cinnamon pecans you love, so I—" Butch paused as he looked up from the snacks in his arms. His forest green eyes went immediately to Blossom. "Blossom! What are—How-How are you?"

The color from Blossom's face immediately washed away while Buttercup smacked her forehead at Butch's reaction to the redhead's presence.

"Butch… I'm good," she forced out. She tried to keep a relatively positive tone. Her mind panicking as she knew this was not going to help Buttercup in anyway. "You?"

"I'm alright," he replied quickly.

"That's… That's great," Blossom mustered up. She tried to give him a small smile but Blossom was sure she looked deranged. "Well, I have to use the bathroom. So I'm just–" She pointed to the back of the auditorium to the doors. "Imma just—The bathroom, over there. I'm going there. I, um… Bye!"

The two dark-haired individuals watched as Blossom rushed out to the lobby of the auditorium.

Buttercup slapped her forehead again as Butch sat down in his seat. The arms full of snacks he had, fell to his laps. His face expressing how shook he truly was from Blossom's brief appearance.

"You're friends with her again?" Butch asked quietly in a hastily manner. "Since when?"

Buttercup downcasted her eyes to the pair of sneakers she wore. "It's complicated."

"It didn't seem that way."

"Yeah, well it is, Butch," she remarked bitterly.

Butch arched an eyebrow. He was acutely aware of the button he pushed. However, he was not sure which one exactly he provoked.

"Okay then," he said. Butch handed her the cinnamon pecans he got her. His left leg shaking as he was still spaced out by Blossom. "Did… Did she say anything about me?"

Buttercup looked up at him, meeting his eyes.

 _It was obvious._

There could never be her and Butch. There could never be a chance for her to say anything. Not when Butch was still tangled up in the web Blossom had chopped him off from.

It appeared she would have to stay in her anxious mood and keep her newly found thoughts of Butch to herself. She would have to until Butch was emotionally and mentally able to see her in a new light without Blossom lingering in his mind.

"No," Buttercup lied. "She didn't."

* * *

It was chaotic backstage during intermission. Cast and crew members were scattered in every which way, carrying on a highly important individual task.

Bubbles had to rush over to wardrobe and makeup. She swiftly tugged off her clothes and grabbed her sock hop dress from the rack closest to her. When they go back on stage, they would have to begin with the school dance. Which meant the hand jive was up next—the hardest dance for her. Needless to say, her stomach was twisted up in an ridiculous amount of knots.

The first half of the musical had gotten off perfectly. Although, there was one moment where the guy playing Kenickie fumbled his line. Other than that, there had not been any noticeable mistakes. It was a miracle, considering how high pressurized Bubbles felt and the fact they had to get a new Rizzo five hours before curtain call.

Bubbles glanced at herself in the mirror by the makeup vanities. Her blonde hair was curled slightly, curving inward. A half-do kept most of it out of her face except the bangs she had to straighten for the play.

She grabbed a makeup brush, dousing her cheeks lightly with a pink-tinted blush. Bubbles made sure to be careful, attempting to not get any of the pink powder on the white dress she wore. The tulle underneath was scratching at her thighs as she leaned closer to the mirror while she applied some mascara.

Bubbles blinked slowly, hoping not to have smudged any of the black residue on her skin. Her eyes becoming alert of the lingering presence behind her in the reflective surface.

She quickly turned on her heel, finding herself face to face with Dee Dee.

The tall blonde was a pretty convincing as Rizzo in a physical nature. She had to conceal her blonde curls with a brunette wig. The brown hair curled softly in a short manner, showing off Dee Dee's round face more than usual. Her eyebrows were drawn more starkly to match her wig. A burgundy dress with black polka dots hugged her tall frame. The small amount of black tulle from underneath was sticking out by her ankles.

She looked good. Probably better than Princess did in the costume.

Dee Dee was also doing an incredibly well job in her illy prepared role. People in the audience may believe she was Rizzo to begin to with when considering her acting capabilities.

"Hey," Bubbles said gently as Dee Dee averted her gaze away, scoffing at the other blonde. Bubbles sighed, glancing down at the white chunky heels strapped to her feet. "I know you're mad at me," she murmured. "But I just wanted to say that you're doing an amazing job tonight."

Dee Dee snuck a glance at Bubbles for a brief moment, folding her arms. "...Thanks."

Bubbles nodded. She leaned on her tippy toes, unsure if she should go or not.

After the fight with Boomer, Bubbles has been actively trying to improve her communication skills. As she and Dee Dee were face to face with each other, it slowly dawned on her how the issue they had with each other was caused by a lack of communication. If she simply asked her about what was going and got her to talk, Bubbles may not be standing awkwardly with her while others ran around in the background.

With her mind not clouded in the moment by her lingering dismay over her dad, in which had greatly affected her thought process the last few times she attempted to speak to Dee Dee, Bubbles quickly realized this was a golden moment. A moment where she could communicate and fix her friendship with Dee Dee

"Dees… I'm not exactly sure what it is that I did that made you mad, but whatever it is, I truly am sorry. I don't want to fight anymore with you. It's just so… _sad_ not being able to be friends with you," Bubbles confessed quietly.

She watched as Dee Dee's posture began to ease up reluctantly. Her blue eyes slowly met Bubbles, narrowing sharply.

"If that's so, then why would you spread rumors about me?"

"I—What? What rumors?" Bubbles questioned in confusion.

Dee Dee scoffed at Bubbles for a moment. "The ones where you said I was a terrible actor to make sure I wouldn't get the role of Sandy."

"I never did that," the blonde denied immediately, puzzled by what Dee Dee was saying. "Where did you hear this?"

"Princess told me."

" _Princess_?" Bubbles repeated. Her eyes widened at the dots becoming connected in her mind. "Oh my god! Of course, it was her! We got tricked! She purposely got in our heads to mess with us."

"How do you know that?" Dee Dee asked skeptically.

"Do you remember how Julie and Kim used to be best friends?"

"Yeah…"

"Well they stopped being friends last spring because Princess made Julie believe Kim was saying she was fat behind her back. A four year friendship was destroyed through a simple lie," Bubbles explained. "That was what Princess was trying to do with us."

"But why? That seems so pointless to do. We never done anything to her."

"I don't know," Bubbles shrugged. "Princess can be super random sometimes. One day she has this elaborate scheme to take down her enemies, the next she is causing some senseless drama because she's bored. I'm guessing we were the latter. We were her muse to mess with during the musical."

"Oh." Dee Dee rubbed the sides of her temples, digesting the theory Bubbles had about the situation. "So that means I was rude to you for no reason? Oh Bubbles, I'm so sorry!" she said sincerely. Dee Dee made her way over to Bubbles, wrapping her up in a tight hug. "I'm an awful friend."

"It's okay," Bubbles replied softly when they broke apart. "Princess got in my head too."

"What did she say to you?"

"Oh. Um…" Bubbles chewed down on her lip, debating on whether to reveal the worry that has plagued her for a long time. From her neck up, Bubbles felt an uncomfortable, prickly heat overcome her as she opened her mouth to speak. "She may have told me that you had a thing for Boomer and—" Bubbles paused her sentence as Dee Dee burst out laughing. " _What's so funny_?"

"Bubs," Dee Dee grinned. Her voice was a bit winded from laughing so hard. "I'm not interested in Boomer at all—"

"Well that's a relief," Bubbles said under her breath.

"And I never will be because I'm into girls," Dee Dee revealed.

Bubbles furrowed her eyes. "Wait. You're gay? Since when?"

"Um… not to get political, but I'm sure it was when I was born—"

"No, no," Bubbles waved off. Her hands were held up to signal no harm. "I mean, I'm sure you're right; but what I meant, is why didn't I know this?"

"I'm not sure," Dee Dee shrugged. "I never been secretive about it. Like, I used to have the biggest crush on Buttercup back in the tenth grade. Remember, I used to ask you so many questions about her?"

"Oh my," Bubbles whispered, clutching the sides of her head as she recalled the memories. She was totally oblivious to Dee Dee's true intentions. At the time, Bubbles simply believed the other blonde was trying to be friends with Buttercup. "That completely went over my head."

Dee Dee chuckled at Bubbles' dismay. "It's fine. I always thought you knew since Boomer does." Bubbles thought back to the argument she had with Boomer in the motel room. The moment where he was about to state why he would not be interested in Dee Dee. It was not because of anything negative, but because she was not attracted to his gender. It all made sense to her now. "But now you do know. Which is great because I can actually talk to you about my girlfriend."

" _Girlfriend_?" Bubbles repeated once again. Another bombshell dropped on her. However, this one was not too nuclear like the other one was. "Does she go here?"

"No, she's lives in my hometown," Dee Dee revealed. "Her name is Lee Lee and she has the prettiest eyes ever," she sighed lovingly.

Bubbles smiled at Dee Dee's blissful behavior from the mention of girlfriend.

"I'm happy for you, Dees," Bubbles said sincerely.

"Thanks," Dee Dee replied, sharing the same expression as Bubbles.

In the background, some were shouting about how intermission was about to end in less than two minutes. Bubbles and Dee Dee immediately made their way to their designated spots. However, Dee Dee had gripped on Bubbles' arm before they separated. She gave her one quick hug, whispering some parting words to her.

"Break a leg," she said, winking at the blonde as she took a step back.

"Same to you," Bubbles said quietly before making her way back to center stage.

As the thick red curtain began to rise and the bright spotlight focused it's attention on her, Bubbles could not help feeling the joy from mending her friendship with Dee Dee overtake her anxious attitude. It was the first time since she met her dad, that Bubbles was truly elated about something. It was a nice change of pace for her. One that she hoped would continue on.

* * *

The thunderously sound of applause pounded against her ears as Bubbles took her final bow for the night. A wide, toothy smile was plastered across her lips. The first night of the musical was way better than she originally thought it was going to be.

Her and the other crew members retreated backstage once done with their bows, taking a moment to breath before heading out to talk to the audience.

Bubbles dabbed at her forehead to do away with the sweat on her forehead from the final number. The thought of being excited to return tomorrow night for the second showing was prominent in her mind.

She walked over to hair and costume to wipe away her makeup. Her baby blue eyes found a certain redhead sitting down by the area, sneering at the happiness of the others around her.

"Princess," Bubbles greeted neutrally despite the mixed feelings she had towards the redhead after discovering her scheme earlier in the night. "How are you?"

She scoffed at the blonde's question, gesturing down to her foot. Her freakishly long foot was wrapped up in tan medical tape. Bubbles quickly noticed the crutch under Princess' left armpit afterward.

"I sprained my ankle," Princess answered bitterly. "I have to use this damn crutch for a whole two weeks now."

"I'm sorry."

Princess rolled her eyes. "Sure you are."

"I am," Bubbles replied calmly. She grabbed a makeup wipe, stroking the material against her left eyelid. "You don't deserve to get injured, Princess. However, maybe it was God's way of getting back at you for trying to ruin Dee Dee and I's friendship." The blonde glanced over to the redhead, keeping up her indifference. "Which, by the way, did not work."

"I don't know what you're talking—"

"Yes, you do," Bubbles sighed, switching over to wipe her right eye. "Just own up to it already."

"Fine," the redhead huffed out. "I did try to mess with you and Dee Dee."

"Why?"

"I was bored," Princess shrugged.

"That was your motivation?" Bubbles questioned, confirming she was correct in her theory.

Instead of being mad or upset with Princess, the blonde actually pitied her. For the fact she had to sabotage others' lives to entertain herself. That she had to make others miserable to feel enjoyment. It sounded truly sad. And perhaps, a bit psychotic.

"Pretty much," the redhead remarked. Her dark eyes tossed over to the side as she spoke a little quieter. "I also hoped that you and Dee Dee might have physically fought each other, so you both would have gotten kicked out of the play. Then I could have stepped up and played Sandy instead."

"Why would you want that? You didn't even audition for Sandy."

"Like I'm stupid enough to audition against you. The girl who is the embodiment of the naive and dimwit nature of Sandy? Yeah, right," Princess laughed off. "I'm way too intelligent than that."

"Yet you weren't intelligent enough to notice the puddle of sweat you slipped in," Bubbles acknowledge with a smirk. She threw away her makeup wipe. "You're losing your touch, Princess."

Princess blinked at the girl. The same girl who she would be sleeping ten feet away from in a few hours. But as she stared at her, the redhead did not recognize Bubbles at all.

"Since when did you have some bite?" The redhead retorted, her eyebrows furrowed furiously. "I thought you were supposed to be the kind one."

"I am," Bubbles grinned. "But that doesn't mean I have to be kind to you when you are constantly cruel to me. Maybe tomorrow I'll be nicer to you. Maybe I'll even help you around campus during classes this week. But for tonight, I'm choosing not to care about you or anything you have to say."

With that said, Bubbles turned on her heel, making her way to the audience to meet up with Boomer and her friends.

"Bubbles! Bubbles!" Princess shouted. "You will not talk to me like that! I will end you! I am going to call Daddy right now! Do you hear me?"

Bubbles simply chuckled off the redhead's desperate attempts to gain her attention.

Tonight, she was happy for once. Tonight, she wanted to celebrate with the people she cared about. Tonight, Bubbles was not going to worried about all the mistakes she has made in the past few weeks.

Tonight, she finally felt free.

It certainly was her night after all.

* * *

As the weekend ended, and along with the musical, the students of Townsville Academy were focused on the next big event to distract them from their school work.

 _Spring Break_.

Or at least, that was what they originally thought it would be as they were all brought into the auditorium for a special event announcement from Principal Him before their second class of the day. The student body were a buzzed with trying to figure out what it may be.

None of them, except for Princess Morbucks, had the slightest clue as to what Him had to say.

"Good morning, students," Him greeted with a grin at the podium placed at the center of the stage. "It has recently been brought to my attention of the number of you who happen to be homesick. And while I wish we had more time in the school year to allow you, students, to travel home, we cannot do so. But, thanks to a very generous peer of your's..."

Him paused to direct a hand in Princess' direction, who stood from her seat in the front row. With her crutch under her arm, she used her free hand to elegantly wave at her classmates. A smug grin on her face as she could not wait to see how distraught Blossom was going to be after the announcement was officially made.

"We had received enough funding by the Morbucks family to allow us to bring a little bit of home to you. Next weekend, I would like to introduce the inaugural parents weekend," Him presented as a slideshow in the back of the stage began as Him wanted to educate the students to how the weekend would work.

While Him rambled on and students listened, in the crowd, a particular redhead felt like throwing up.

Blossom's hand clutched onto Brick's with a white-knuckle grip. Her eyes appeared like a deer in headlights. She saw through Princess' "generous" funding.

This was an act of revenge. This was all of her karma catching up to her.

Forget about Robin and her blackmail. Her parents coming to Townsville Academy was her _true_ worse nightmare. A nightmare she would not be able to wake up from in a week.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Thank you to everyone who read my last chapter. I promise to be more frequent with updates for this story, especially since the next chapter will feature most of the characters' parents. It is definitely going to be an interesting one, to say the least...**

 **With this chapter, I'm glad to have Buttercup finally recognize her feelings for Butch because the girl was heavily in denial. More importantly, for Blossom and Buttercup to somewhat mend their relationship a little. It would not be a smooth ride for them and, while it may seem as if they rushed to forgiveness, there is still a lot that can break their friendship once again.**

 **Also, it is definitely not a bad thing for those who root for Blossom to get some bad karma. Trust me, she deserves it. Some of it will be happening at a much sooner date, while the other half will be experienced until _way_ later. As some other characters will get a bit of bad juju too.**

 **Lastly, I would like to point out we are two chapters away from finishing Act Two of this story, which means things are about to get even more intense; so be prepared for the ridiculous amount of melodrama I will be providing you, lol.**

 **Until next time, thank you for reading and please review!**


	24. Parental Advisory

For some, it was one of the most exciting weekends at the Academy. For others, it was a nerve-wrecking await. And then there was Blossom, who felt the next two days would be the slaughtering of her newly reinvented world.

It was only nine in the morning and only the first bus carrying her classmates' parents had arrived at the Academy but the redhead already could feel the knife of her parents' disdain slowly digging into her chest. The sharpness pierced through her, cultivating her into a weak breath even as she stood in the parking lot, dreading the inevitable arrival of her dearest parents.

Perhaps, she should leave. Act as if she had no clue they were coming. There was the slightest chance they were not even coming to see her. With how icy they have been to her ever since she went to the Academy, Blossom would not be shocked if they did not show.

Oddly, she felt not a sense of relief from the thought but a fluttering and never-ending twang of disappointment. Why she could be disappointed, Blossom did not want to think about. The want of approval from her parents has yet to leave her system despite how widely open her eyes have become to how problematic her mind was to even consider thoughts as such about them.

Blossom simply wished she did not have to feel this way. She wished she could hug and laugh with her parents as they arrived like her other classmates were doing around her. She wished the thought of her parents did not leave her feeling as if she was sinking into a pool of dark, heavy water that barely reached her chin.

She wanted a helping hand. A parent— _or parents_ —she could depend on to be there and help her when she was drowning. Instead, they were the ones who pushed her into the pool without any second thoughts.

Blossom just wanted her parents to express some type of love or fondness for her. Anything to make it feel like they _saw_ her and accepted her for what she was instead of what they wanted for her.

If only things could be that easy for her…

"You look stressed."

Blossom, in her fogged up state of mind, did not notice when Brick came and approached her. His broad six foot two frame stood before her, blocking her view of the incoming and departing buses in the faculty parking lot. His body shielded her from the dreadful first glance at her parents whenever they stepped off of their bus.

"Stressed does not even begin how I feel right now," Blossom said in a quick and anxious breath. "In fact, I'm not even sure if I could find the right words to help describe how I feel right now. All I can think about is how scared I am…" She met his eyes. "I'm scared of them showing up but I'm also scared of them not coming. It's-It's… I don't know." Blossom let her shoulders fall in a dejected manner. "I didn't sign up for this…"

"None of us did," Brick responded solemnly. His hands went to the small of her back, hoping to comfort her. "This was obviously some scheme cooked up by Princess to torture you. But you know," Brick leaned down, resting his forehead against Blossom's. "You're not in this alone. I'm going to be with you all weekend. And you're going to prove to yourself that you can face your fears without succumbing to them. Okay?"

Blossom chewed on her bottom lip, nodding softly. Even if it was for a brief moment, she was grateful for Brick's reassurance and belief in her.

"Alright," she answered with an unsure grin tugging at the corner of her lips. "I can do this," Blossom began, but she was mostly talking to herself. "And if I cannot, I will get through this."

"There we go," Brick smiled proudly.

Blossom closed the small gap between them for a short kiss before taking a step back. She let out another anxious breath, staring at Brick with sympathetic eyes. "Now if we're both going to deal with my parents this weekend, we need to go over the rules once more."

"Oh… _right_ ," the redheaded male said under his breath.

He had hoped Blossom was joking when she briefed him on how to behave in front of her parents. Then again, Brick should have figured Blossom's parents would come along with a set of rules to follow.

"So that means," Blossom started to count on her right hand as she reiterated her rules to him. "No cursing. No talking to them unless they attempt to speak to you. No comments about their English-"

"No mentions of the news or politics they don't agree with. No talking about _Julliard._ And no speaking about you continuing to dance," Brick interjected, listing off each subject unamused. "I think I got it, Bloss."

The pink-eyed girl raised an eyebrow in challenge. Her hands went to her hips, "You're missing two of them."

"Well, obviously I'm not going to talk about us having sex with your parents. That should be a given," he retorted. Blossom wanted to keep her parents under the belief she was still a virgin and he had no reason or want to fight her on it. The secret was Blossom's to share, not his. "And perhaps I'm still not a fan of the no PDA rule."

"I'm not either," she agreed in the best soothing tone she could muster.

While Brick was not going to admit it, Blossom could tell the rules and prohibitions she was placing on him because of her parents were frustrating him.

She draped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him gently down to her, "But like you've been telling me, it's only two days. Then," she smiled mischievously at him. "We have a whole week in the Turks and Caicos to do whatever we want without any interruptions."

Brick returned her expression, "What an absolute dream that sounds like."

"Oh, it will—"

Before Blossom could finish her sentence, she heard someone clear their throat.

It was a sound she was way too accustomed to. Shame crept into her system furiously as she pushed Brick away from her. Never mind the look he was giving her from the action. For Blossom, she only had tunnel vision.

However, there was no light at the end of the tunnel.

Instead, it was her mother's chilling stare of utter disdain for her own daughter.

Blossom could not move as a plethora of memories she had let go of, came rushing back to her. The lack of emotion in her mother's eyes were still the strongest trigger for her, Blossom realized. No matter how much she wanted to cast away the dread of the woman who birthed her, it was rooted deeply into her. As was the hollowing task of trying to get the slightest bit of acknowledgment or affection from her mother.

It was as if her lungs had stopped working. A poison was trapped within her and she was unable to find an antidote for it. She would choke all she could, loudly and roughly while her mother would simply watch and do nothing about it.

And that was how Blossom felt her whole life around her mother. As if she was on the brink of taking in her last breath and her mother would not even blink an eye to it.

"I see nothing has changed for you," her mother commented with a lack of attachment, sticking her nose up at her daughter—Or perhaps, Blossom imagined her doing it? It was a habit she has witnessed way too many times, to where the redhead was surprised when her mother did not do it at least once in one of their brief conversations.

"Mother," Blossom squeaked out sheepishly, forcing a smile on her face to appear excited to see her parents. She turned her attention to her father who stood beside his wife. "Father. It's certainly," she swallowed down the burning she felt in her throat from the lie she was about to tell. " _Wonderful_ to see you both."

There was not much change about her parents' appearance wise. Her father was particularly short and plump, which was where Blossom got her height from. His auburn hair had begun to bald at the age of twenty-seven from the stress of his career. The sides of his head were the only evidence to show how he once had a head full of orange locks.

From the photos Blossom had seen grown up, her father was in better shape in his youth too. Another con caused by his diplomatic duties.

Her mother was painfully thin, now that Blossom thought about it. A thin in which Blossom had spent most of her life striving for without realizing the negative implications it would have on her own body. In her mind, it was another way to get her mother to acknowledge Blossom. To achieve a level of perfection her mother had reached.

She was also a tall woman, especially in a pair of heels. Her cheekbones were craved deeply into her skull and covered in flawless porcelain skin. Silky platinum blonde hair—always long, straight, and down—was the finishing touches to an ageless beauty.

And from the chilling stare her mother was continuing despite Blossom's attempt at being civil, followed by her father's lack of acknowledgement towards anything, conveyed to the redhead on how their behavior has not changed either. A fact, in which, Blossom had already known.

"So, um," Blossom said awkwardly to cut through the tension. She glanced over to Brick, her hand moving slightly in his direction, motioning for him to join her side. "This is my boyfriend, Brick."

Brick, upon hearing his name, stuck out his hand to the couple. Her mother gave him a once over, raising an eyebrow, portraying how unimpressed she was by him. Her hand reached out to his, shaking his hand as if he had a disease.

Her father was better, giving Brick a proper handshake and hello but still remained subdued.

"Another one for you, I see," her mother chided.

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows, "I've only had two boy—"

"You've always needed a male's attention, haven't you?" her mother interrupted without any regard. "Such a shame you could never become independent."

"Well, I—"

"Wasn't that the purpose of you coming to this school?" Her mother gave Brick a once over again. "But now I see that they are allowing just anyone to enroll here now. So I guess it should not surprise me that you have yet to better yourself, Rosemarie."

Blossom chewed down on her bottom lip to hide the quiver she felt. Her eyes were growing glassy as she forced herself to keep up a strong front for her mother.

"I cannot believe I am saying this," her mother continued. "But I do believe I preferred your last disappointment more. He, at least, did not look like he could be your sibling."

"He what?" Blossom exclaimed. Her eyes widened in shock. " _Why would you say such a thing_?"

Her mother simply shrugged her shoulders while her dad remained quiet.

"Is everything alright?" Brick questioned quietly to Blossom.

He was unable to comprehend most of the words exchanged between them since they were speaking in French to one another. It was one of the few times Brick wished he took French instead of Spanish at his old school to fulfill his language requirement.

"She thinks you and I could be siblings," Blossom answered with a tired breath.

"Oh god!" Brick expressed, completely mortified. "Why would she say such a thing?"

"That's what I asked her."

"We don't look like siblings at all," he scoffed. "We have red hair. That's it."

"You don't have to convince me, Brick." Pink eyes rolled slightly as she sunk her shoulders in defeat. "I think I'm just going to give them a tour of the campus now and hope I don't break into tears by the end of it."

"I'll come with you," he suggested immediately.

Blossom almost agreed to his idea as having him by her side was exactly what she wanted for this weekend, but Blossom hesitated.

"What about your mom? You should wait for her to come."

There was a flash of irritation in his crimson eyes but Brick subdued it. "Eh," he shrugged off. "I can text her where we're at when she gets here." Blossom arched an eyebrow, expressing to him silently how much she did not agree to his plan. Brick returned the same expression in challenge. "It will be fine, Bloss."

The redhead shook her head slightly. "Okay," she said under her breath before informing her parents about the tour.

* * *

"I can't even tell you how much I've missed you," Buttercup admitted while hugging her two parents.

"Us too," her mom remarked.

When they parted it, Buttercup took a step back to gesture to Butch who stood patiently in the background of their hugging. She nudged his side, grinning to her parents.

"So Butch here is planning on being parent-less this weekend and I was wondering if he could be an honorary Soto for the time being?"

Her question was an idea she conjured up soon after Him announced the parents weekend. Once Butch expressed his frustrations with not wanting to be around his parents and hoping they would not show up at all, Buttercup suggested he joined her with her parents. She could only imagine how lonely it would be to be on campus without one's parents during this weekend. And considering the roller-coaster of emotions Butch has been riding for the past few months, Buttercup did not wish to leave him alone and undue any progress he has made.

Butch attempted his best charming smile for her parents as it was his first time meeting them in person. From what Buttercup told him, they had knowledge of him but she did not state whether it was good or bad information.

She, at least, did tell him about her parents—the green-eyed girl was a gigantic, gooey marshmallow when it came to her family, Butch had come to know. Her mom, who Buttercup was a spitting image of, was named Mai and she was a florist. She was the one who encouraged Buttercup to play soccer as it was a sport Mai used to play when she was young. Her father, Jim—a tall, slim, and stern looking man—was a police officer and has been for fifteen years now. While Buttercup never would admit it, Butch knew she held a special bond with her dad especially.

Jim, with his bushy and dark gray eyebrows furrowed, pointed at Butch. "Aren't you the one who gave my Buttercup a lot of trouble before?"

Butch rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "Well, um, you see–"

"It's fine, dad," Buttercup cut in. "We worked things out and now we're good friends."

 _And I'm also in love with him, but we don't need to talk about tha_ t, Buttercup added in her head. Unable to vocalize such words, she expressed a slightly pain-stricken smile.

"You could even say best friends," Butch added, throwing his arm over Buttercup's shoulder and bringing her closer to him.

Her dad seemed unimpressed by the statement as he crossed his arms. A "huh," was stuck in his throat while he continued to stare Butch down.

Buttercup did not even notice as she had to ignore the static she felt from Butch's touch. She attempted to force herself to pay attention to anything but how nice it felt to be, somewhat, in his arms.

"Yeah," she laughed out awkwardly. " _Best friends_ , that's what we are."

"Oh, but what about the Blossom girl? And Bubbles too?" Her mom raised out of concern.

"Me and Bubs are still good," she answered back, gaining a pleased smile from her mom. By now Butch had removed his arm, relieving Buttercup from the odd feelings she would more than like to push aside. "Blossom on the other hand is another story that I'll tell you about at dinner." Lime green eyes went to Butch and then her parents again, "Which, I would still like to know if it is okay for Butch to come along with us?"

"If that is what you want," her dad replied. His dark eyes shifted between the two before finally setting on his daughter. "Then he may come."

"Sweet!" Butch cheered, pumping his fist in the air. His loudness gained a few stares from those around them. Buttercup's mom simply laughed at him while her dad narrowed his eyes, seeming to regret his decision already. The green-eyed male cleared his throat, hoping to recover from his outburst. "I look forward to getting to know the both of you. Buttercup has told me a lot about you guys. Especially how you both love to play soccer," he grinned at them eagerly. "So I wondering why don't we start this weekend off with a good ol' game of two against two?"

Buttercup pursed her lips, glancing at her parents for any objections before shrugging her shoulders. A soft smile tugged at her lips, happy to see Butch wanting to get along with her parents without her asking or forcing him to.

"Sure. Why not?"

* * *

"And we've started to do beach clean ups and my friend Malia is trying to get all single-use plastics banned from the islands," Boomer's mom, Kala revealed.

She was informing Bubbles and Boomer about her recent venture in environmental activism while maintaining her waitress job. They were at Bubbles' favorite café, stuffing themselves on French pastries in the meantime.

Boomer's dad was not able to make the trip due to being in Australia for a surfing competition, but the blond was more than happy to simply see his mom again.

While him and his mom continued to discuss other movements going on in their home state, Bubbles allowed herself to fade into the background.

The parents weekend was not exactly the best thing for Bubbles to get her mind off of her father. Especially when her abuela was unable to make the trip up to Townsville. And, although she was grateful to have Boomer's mom who has treated her well since the minute the blonde met her, Bubbles wished she had a true family member with her. Someone who shared the blood running through her veins.

It was difficult for her to not wallow in the self pity she has been trying to swim against for awhile now. Furthermore, the weekend happening only a few weeks after being rejected by her biological dad, did not make the heartbreak from the situation any easier to process.

Perhaps she should have said no to Boomer when he invited her to hang out with his mom. It might have been better if she stayed alone all weekend.

It definitely would have stopped her from being rude to Boomer's mom at the moment as she was pretending to listen to whatever was being discussed.

Why could she not be better yet?

Bubbles had thought after a certain amount of time, it would have phased through her system. All it would be was a memory and a "what could have been'' type of situation. Instead, it has clogged her brain for the betterment of her days if she was not distracted or happy. Distractions come and go. As did her feelings of joy.

In the middle of her brewing thoughts, Bubbles felt Boomer's hand reach out for her's. His fingers peeled open her palm, lacing their fingers together. He did this all while keeping his attention focused on his mom.

Bubbles knew it was not out of habit. It was him silently trying to comfort her. He knew she was holding back and he was acknowledging his stance on being there for her. The subtlety was to keep her feelings private to her and him only. Even if it was his mom, he did not want to pressure Bubbles into revealing her troubles to his mom.

And as he began to brag to his mom about her performance in the musical—with videos he recorded to show off, Bubbles must add—Bubbles felt the dark cloud over her disappear momentarily.

A simple gesture like this reminded Bubbles of why she fell in love with Boomer in the first place.

In the past few months, the blonde has been mulling over all of the decisions and actions she has committed over her life and it did bring her comfort to know that Boomer was not one of those she could regret.

He was actually one of her best decisions to date.

* * *

"Good game," Butch commented as he wiped away the sweat on his forehead with the hem of his t-shirt.

"Yes, yes, it was," Jim agreed, taking a seat on the bleachers by the soccer field.

Once they finished their friendly soccer match—which was a boys vs girls game, with the girls coming out on top—Buttercup and her mom went to the smoothie shop on campus to soften the boys' defeat.

"We could have won," the green-eyed male stated, finding a place on a patch of grass to rest. He leaned onto his hands for support as he continued, "You know, if Buttercup didn't steal the ball so much."

"She is an aggressive one, I'll admit," Jim chuckled with a proud grin.

"She's going to be a handful at _Stanford_." Butch grinned at the thought of Buttercup taking down each opponent in the near future. "Mai and you must be proud of her."

Jim nodded, "We are. It's all we could ever want for her."

"She definitely deserves it."

Jim cocked an eyebrow, taking keen interest in the kind words Butch had for his daughter. "You and Buttercup have gotten pretty close, huh?"

"Yeah, I would say that."

"Well," the elder man leaned a bit forward. "That's certainly a one-eighty from a man who dumped a plate of spaghetti on my daughter's head."

"Oh," Butch said involuntarily. He could not say he was surprised by Buttercup telling her dad about the incident from a year ago, but he certainly was shocked Jim wanted to bring it up. Butch scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly, his skin becoming warm from the shame he felt. "Yeah… that was not one of my finest moments."

Jim crossed his arms, a tight smile pulled at his lips as he found amusement in watching Butch squirm. "I would hope so."

"I've grown a lot since then, Mr. Soto," the green-eyed male reassured. "And Buttercup has had a lot to do with that."

Buttercup's dad raised both of his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"It's true. Buttercup has helped me more times than I can count this school year—there's even times I believe she doesn't even realize she was doing anything to help me."

"Uh huh," Jim nodded once, narrowing his eyes a little at Butch.

Butch ran a hand through his dark curls, raking at his wild locks of hair as he tried to string his words together correctly. "What I'm trying to say is," He took in a deep breath and exhaled it out. "I truly appreciate your daughter and everything has done for me. I don't think I've ever gotten to know someone so selfless before. And the crazy thing is, she also isn't a pushover and isn't afraid to tell me off when I need it—which has been way too many times than I would like to admit, but I digress." Butch smiled at Jim, "And I guess it just took me awhile to realize what an awesome person Buttercup is but I am glad I can call her my best friend now. It just… _feels right_ , you know?"

Jim did not say anything for a few seconds, letting Butch's words hang in the air between them. He eventually let a grin shine through, nodding his head, "I see, I see. It explains—"

"Okay, one matcha green tea smoothie for dad," Buttercup interrupted without knowing as her and her mom had returned with smoothies in hand. She handed a vibrant green drink to her dad while her mom took a seat next to him on the bleachers. "And a strawberry-banana with an extra shot of protein for Butch."

"Why thank you," Butch commented happily, taking the smoothie she handed him. Buttercup, without much thought, took the spot next to him on the grass, sipping on her pineapple-kiwi smoothie. Butch took in a loud slurp of his drink, nudging Buttercup when he was done. "Maybe after I soak in all of this protein, your dad and I can get a fair rematch."

Buttercup nudged him back, arching an eyebrow with a smirk, " _A fair rematch_? You can't just take that me and my badass mom kicked your ass?"

"I would," he replied, taking a sip of his smoothie before speaking again. "But um, I definitely feel like there were a couple of fouls committed on your part, B."

Buttercup rolled her eyes with exaggeration, "Please, Butch. Please tell me how I cheated you out of such an important win," she remarked dryly.

As the green-eyed male went into his list of objections to her playing style—while Buttercup challenged each one made—Jim and Mai watched the two interact. With a simultaneous sip of their respective smoothies, the couple took a moment to share a knowing glance with each other, smiling silently along with it.

* * *

Antoinette's was the only place Blossom found to be acceptable to take her parents. With how snobby they could be and their critical opinions about American cuisine, Antoinette's had the right price point and food to, hopefully, satisfy them for the evening.

She had reserved a private room for them, along with Brick and his mom to join. Blossom figured if they were going to introduce their parents at some point, now was the time to get it over with.

It certainly was a better place than when she had Butch meet her parents over junior year Memorial Day weekend. Long story short, they were not impressed with Butch's decision to eat at a taco stand—Blossom was pretty sure it was the first time they even had tacos before—and did not hide how much they disapproved of her choice in a boyfriend.

So here was Blossom holding onto the naïve belief she could recover from their initial reaction upon meeting Brick.

The four of them had been seated for about ten minutes, awaiting the arrival of Brick's mom. With a quick glance to her mother on the other side of the table, Blossom could tell she was getting a bit impatient.

"Hey, is your mom okay?" She asked privately to Brick.

Despite his reassurance earlier in the day, his mom did not come to find them during the, unpleasant and awkward, tour around campus. In fact, she did not recall Brick ever using his phone the entire time. Which brought on the question to how he even knew if she made it to campus?

"I don't know," he shrugged off. "I haven't heard from her all day."

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows, "But you did tell her to come, right?"

"Yes," Brick answered with a bit of agitation in his tone. "I did."

Pink eyes narrowed at him, "Is everything al—"

"Oh I'm sorry, I'm sorry," a dirty blonde woman dressed in an wrinkled sundress stated in a thick Boston accent as she opened the doors to the private dining room they held for the evening, gaining everyone's immediate attention. "My phone's directions were not helpful at all tonight."

Her amber eyes lit up when she spotted Brick. A loving smile overcame her. The backs of her heels clicked against the hardwood of the room as she made quick steps to Brick, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace.

"Oh, how I missed my boy," she cooed. Blossom heard her mother grimace at the affection displayed by Brick's mom. "How are you?"

Brick rolled his eyes slightly, patting his mom's back halfheartedly in an attempt to get her to stop hugging him. "I'm fine."

His mom pulled away, cupping his face in her hands. Her eyes traced his face attentively, "Have you been eating? You look skinnier."

" _Americans_ ," Blossom's mother said under her breath in disdain to her husband. "Always wanting to fatten up their children."

Blossom shot her mother a dirty look as did Brick's mom. "Excuse me," she said before taking a seat next to her son. Her tone was laced in a false sugary bubble. "I haven't introduced myself. I'm Catherine Adams."

Blossom's mother tilted her head to a degree, uninterested in acknowledging Catherine.

It was Blossom's father who stepped up and introduced them. "Patrice Blanchette." He stuck out his hand to Catherine, shaking her hand. He then gestured to his wife. "And this is my wife, Esmée."

"It's a pleasure," Catherine answered with a condescending tone. Her amber eyes focused on returning Esmée's stare.

Esmée took on the challenge, smiling vindictively. Her chin angled in Brick's direction.

"So Brick, it is?"

Brick was caught off guard by Blossom's mother finally addressing him. They spent most of the day together and she spoke exclusively in French the entire time. At least Patrice lapsed into English from time to time when Brick was included in the conversation. Esmée had purposefully kept him out of whatever was said and made sure he was aware of it.

Brick had believed Blossom on just how awful her mother could be, but after today, he _finally_ got it.

"Yes, it is," he nodded.

Esmée rested her chin in the palm of her hand, "Brick. Do tell me what are your expectations for your future?"

"Well, I have received a full ride to _Stanford_ , where I plan on majoring in public policy."

Blossom smiled at him, pleased by his answer. If her mother got the assumption he was studying to become a lawyer or politician, she might like him more.

A sharp blonde eyebrow arched itself. "Oh? Law is what interests you?"

"Not entirely," Brick shrugged off as Blossom sighed dejectedly at his answer. Catherine narrowed her eyes at the redheaded girl while Brick finished his answer. "It's my backup plan."

Esmée let out a small chuckle, "You know, having a backup plan simply means you're okay with failure. Why would you want to be known as a failure, Brick?"

Brick furrowed his eyebrows. "I don't," he retorted. "I'm just trying to be prepared."

"Right, right," Esmée nodded. "Because you want to be safe, right?" Her mahogany eyes went to Catherine. "You don't want to be like what was before you."

"In a way, yes," Brick answered hesitantly. His mind warping to his dad for a brief moment.

His crimson eyes flickered between the two women. The game Esmée was playing, was not one he could figure out. Neither could Blossom. Sweat began to form on her forehead from the nerves she felt from whatever her mother was trying to pull.

"I don't fault you for such a decision," Esmée replied. "Why would you want to follow the same poor choices, I can only assume, your mother has made when raising you? It's quite a miracle you could _even_ get into _Stanford_." Esmée lowered her eyebrow, a smug expression encompassing her face. "But then again, it is only _Stanford_."

"Excuse me?" Catherine fumed. "You're not going to speak to my son like that."

Esmée shrugged her shoulders, "But I just did." She gestured her hand to him, "And look, he has nothing to argue with."

Brick kept a neutral face. Esmée had her points. He did not want to be like his mom—nor his dad especially. And at the moment, he did not care for her disrespectful behavior towards his mom. Not when he was currently spiteful towards her.

"Why don't we look over the menu?" Blossom pitched out nervously. They have not even gotten their drinks yet and her mother was already starting problems. "Did anyone look at the chicken dish? I thought it looked quite lovely."

"But, Rosemarie, there's so much we could discuss at the moment," her mother remarked. Her mahogany eyes watched her daughter like a predator stalking their prey.

"I don't—"

"I do wish you would stop ruining our name with your decisions. First, with the embarrassment of a school you attend—which is not the Catholic school you originally stated it was. Then the other boyfriend and his idiotic antics, and now this one who reeks of a classless background." Her hand motioned towards Brick again. Crimson eyes glared at her in return. "It seems like you keep dragging yourself to a lower and lower standard each time I see you."

"Mother, please. Not now."

Brick, in an act of habit, placed his hand on Blossom's knee to display his support for her. He failed to realize anything was wrong when Blossom sent him a cold look.

"Brick." She said firmly, pushing his hand away in case her parents saw.

He widened his eyes, mouthing an apology when realizing the misstep he took.

A misstep his mom took notice to. Her amber eyes tightened on the girl who has become the object of affection for her son, not pleased by the behavior she had witnessed from Blossom so far.

"I must ask, Rosemarie. Where is your ring?" Esmée acknowledged.

"Oh… um…" Blossom reddened from her mother bringing up such a subject at the table. "Can we talk about this later?"

"Later? Why later? Shouldn't your friend here know about your commitment to God?"

"It's been discussed," the pink-eyed girl said tightly. She glanced over to her father, who sat solemnly by while his wife antagonized her. He would rather have nothing to do with Blossom than show the slightest amount of humanity to help her out. She flicked her gaze back to her mother, trying to gather the strength to keep a composed front for her. "And that's a discussion that is not appropriate for the dinner table."

"Wait, wait… are you—" Catherine was trying to read the room, her mind at work. When it came to her, she could not help but bursting out into a great laughter. "Wait. Wait." She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "You expect Brick to— _Do you even know my son_? He's been around more than—"

"Could you not?" Brick exasperated, glaring at his mom.

Catherine blinked at him. The humor she had found was long gone now. Instead it was replaced by a feeling of irritation towards her son.

"What? Are you embarrassed by me or something?"

Brick nodded, "At the moment, yeah. I am."

"Brick," Blossom murmured to him but he did not pay attention to it.

"Wow," Catherine chuckled dully. "Well if you're embarrassed by me, then I guess I'm embarrassed by you. Here you are trying to suck up to," Catherine gestured to Blossom's parents. "Whoever these people are."

"Or maybe I'm not sucking up," Brick countered. Esmée could not hide her amusement from the exchange as he continued. "Perhaps I know how to be mature enough to be able to have conversations with difficult people. Or it could be that I could care less about how someone chooses to live their life and their behavior? It's possible I know how to respect others' decisions without having to comment on it and prevent them from doing what they want. _So sucking up_? That's what you think I'm doing?" He scoffed at her, turning his body away from her. "Yeah, you need to grow up."

Catherine was at a loss for words. Brick has never spoken to her in such a way before, leaving her unprepared for his' vicious words.

Esmée snickered. "Such discipline you've shown him."

Brick darted his eyes over to the blonde woman across from him. He had about hit his limit with the woman. After watching her attack Blossom with no remorse, Brick was done sitting passively by and pretending everything was perfect. He could care less about how Blossom's parents felt about him anymore. The redhead came to the quick decision of letting Esmée know just how he truly felt about her.

The only thing he had failed to consider was Blossom's feelings towards him speaking truthfully to her mother. How it would impact her later in the night if he did say something.

But Brick did not think of such, so he went on with his want to be brash with the vile woman who sat across from him.

"You know what? While I'm at it, I must say you're just about the literal worst person I've ever met. I don't know if something happened to make you this way or if you're just awful by nature but Jesus Christ, you suck the life out of everyone." He pointed at Blossom. "Your daughter has done nothing but try to fit into the insane expectations you have for her, and what do you do? Give her more because nothing is ever enough for you, huh?" Crimson eyes rolled harshly, "It's obvious some choices you've made in your life has left you unfilled, but please spare us from becoming as miserable as you for once? Is that too hard for you?"

Esmée opened her mouth to response but nothing came up. A rare occasion in which she was left utterly speechless.

Across the table, Catherine was silently laughing to herself in spite

Blossom had cast a frightful look at Brick, pleading for him to apologize. To work swiftly at the best damage control he could muster up.

But he did not.

"Young man," Patrice began. "I don't believe—"

"Don't even get me started with you," Brick laughed wryly.

"Excuse me?"

Brick had a tunnel vision now, and it was primarily focused on exposing Blossom's parents to be the cruel individuals they were. He did not even notice the pleading glance Blossom was giving him, asking for Brick to keep his mouth shut.

The redhead leaned into the table, cocking his eyebrow. "I just think it's funny now, _now of all times,_ you want to say something. You can sit here so unbothered by your wife ostracizing your daughter over and over again but now that I called her out on it, you want to say something?" Brick let out another dry chuckle. "For someone whose career was based on salvaging and maintaining relations, you sure have no clue when it comes to your own family. But hey," he shrugged his shoulder. "Why bother trying to understand your daughter when you could just turn a blind eye and ignore her? Or when you could throw money her way to compensate on how much you've royally messed up at being a parent? Quite frankly, you're a huge coward and it's just so damn funny to me that you finally have something profound to say to us. So go ahead, man. _Say it._ "

Catherine had her mouth slightly hung, shocked by Brick's sharpness towards Blossom's parents. Patrice made incoherent grumbles to himself. His pale complexion became a hue of strawberry red as sweat broke out on his forehead profusely. Esmée leaned back into her chair. A chilling stare was cast in Brick's direction. Her mind was conjuring up vicious thoughts towards him.

Brick flickered his eyes to the three adults at the table, waiting for one of them—any of them—to say something back to him. The adrenaline in his system was pumping. His mind was rehearsing more complaints he had towards each person, simply willing for the chance to speak his mind again.

"Um… will you excuse Brick and I?" Blossom questioned, interrupting the tension among them.

She did not wait for an answer as she stood up and made her way out of the room. Blossom hoped Brick would follow—which he did. She shut the door to the dining room and dragged him to a secluded corner of the restaurant by the restrooms.

"Okay," she breathed. Blossom noticed how it felt as if she had not been breathing for the past fifteen minutes. "What—"

"Please tell me that you're not pissed about what I said to your parents?" He interjected. Crimson eyes watched her cautiously.

She shook her head, "I'm not mad. A bit shocked and a little bothered, yes. I do think it is safe to say they totally do not approve of you, so that's another thing I'm going to be hearing about."

"I'm sorry, Bloss," he expressed sincerely. Brick did not want to make her upset. He just could not stomach being around her parents anymore while playing along to their facade. Therefore, Brick did not regret what he said. Perhaps, it was his timing that Brick could wish to change. He shrugged his shoulders halfheartedly, "I tried."

" _Did you really_?"

"Hey, I could have said something the minute I saw them."

"That is true," Blossom chuckled dully. She tried to push away the worries circulating her mind about what her parents would have to say after their dinner for the time being. She did not want to let those anxious thoughts continue to sit in her chest. "But, um, what I was going to ask, was if there's something going on with you and your mom?" She put up a finger before he could speak. "And don't tell me 'it's nothing' because you wouldn't be speaking to her like that if it was nothing."

Blossom was utterly surprised by how Brick spoke to Catherine. From what she has heard from him, Brick adored his mom. She was like a hero to him. Furthermore, there were numerous occasions she recalled of him wishing to see Catherine since coming to the Academy.

Now he did not care where she was and telling her to grow up? And Blossom was not going to ignore how he was somewhat siding with her mother over his own for a moment back there.

It was not what she expected from him. A side of him that she was not pleased to see.

Brick slumped his shoulders, unwinding from the tension he felt from being around his mom and Blossom's parents.

"I was going to wait until the weekend was over to tell you because you are dealing with enough already but, um, I." He exhaled tiredly. "I finally told her that I started playing football again a couple days ago," Brick revealed. "And obviously she was not pleased."

Blossom nodded, following along, "Okay."

"Then I told her about _Stanford_ and how I got a full scholarship to play football, and–And you know what she told me?" Brick stormed. "She said I should give up playing football all together. That I shouldn't play when I go to _Stanford_."

"But if you don't play, you don't have a scholarship," Blossom pointed out. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Exactly!" He exclaimed. "That's exactly what I said to her. I wouldn't be able to go to _Stanford_ at all if I don't play. And then she finally told me that she doesn't want me going to _Stanford_ anyways. Which led to her spending the next thirty minutes trying to convince me to come back home and go to a community college instead for a couple of years until I come up with a 'proper' career choice."

"I just feel trapped by her," Brick confessed, lighting the wrath he felt. "I finally have everything I could want, and then she's not even happy about it. She doesn't care. In fact, she rather me change everything I've done to better myself." He blinked his eyes harshly for a moment, prompting Blossom to hug him in comfort. Brick melted into the hug. "She didn't even say congratulations or that she was proud of me… _That's all I really wanted_. For her to see all the sacrifices she has made for me were worth it. But in her mind, it was never enough I guess…"

Blossom tilted her chin up, meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry, Brick. I know you worked hard to get here, not just for yourself but her. And for your mom not to care… I'm sure it was heartbreaking."

"Yeah…" he exhaled. " _That's exactly what it is_. I couldn't figure out how to describe it until now. It's absolutely heartbreaking."

"I'm sure if you told her how you felt—"

"I don't want to," Brick interrupted, shaking his head. "She made her wants very clear to me. I tried to reason with her during that phone call and she didn't listen to a word I had to say. So I'm done," he concluded to himself more than to Blossom. "Until she apologizes, I'm not going to waste my time trying to care about her."

Blossom frowned at his decision, "Brick."

"Don't," he objected. "I don't want grief about this."

The pink-eyes girl sighed, choosing to leave this issue untouched until Brick was a bit less heated about it. "Could you, at least, be civil with her for the time she's here? She traveled across the country just to see you, Brick. And it would be really nice of you if you did."

Brick remained mute for a length of time before nodding. "Fine."

"Great," Blossom smiled uneasily. A rush came over her as she realized they had to return to the table now. Everything within her wanted to leave with Brick and forget about the disaster waiting for them in the private dining room. She slumped her shoulders in defeat, "This is going to be the worst dining experience we've ever had, isn't it?"

"Yup," Brick said without any hesitations. "But it will make a funny story."

Blossom raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, "Will it really?"

Brick let out a sheepish grin, "No, it wouldn't but I don't know how to spin this into a positive way, _so_ …"

The pink-eyed girl shook her head, "You're in a rare form tonight, aren't you?"

"It's the meeting-the-parents jitters," He quipped sarcastically.

Blossom rolled her eyes, taking his hand and reluctantly leading him back to the dining room they were both dreading to go into. The only reason she was attempting to go back in, was to lessen—the already hefty—list of grievances her parents may have after dinner for her.

" _Right,_ because you're doing such a good job at that."

* * *

Blossom could not sleep during the entire duration of the night. After the dinner—and the lack of conversation between anyone once Brick and Blossom joined them again—she had the pleasure of getting an earful from her mother on the drive back to their hotel nearby.

Most of which pertained towards Brick and her poor decision-making on getting involved with him. They also ended on the belief of how it was expected for Blossom to break up with Brick.

Blossom had tossed and turned, trying to escape the direction she was advised to take. Her hair was frayed and her eyes were designed by dark circles. She had barely enough energy to put together a cohesive outfit to leave her dorm. And it took her five steps outside of her dorm building to realize she was still wearing her slippers. A fact in which she did not bother to fix as she needed to take a walk to ease her mind.

It was a bit too early for the campus to be crowded but a few parents and their students were out and about. Someone were heading to breakfast in the mess hall. Others were meeting for the day and figuring out what to do before the parents get-together the school was holding in the evening.

She tried not to be but the feeling of envy crept in her. The wish to have a family who did not suffocate and harm each other sounded like a simple idea but the redhead knew how difficult it actually was to attain.

Her chest compressed, creating a weight too heavy for her. Thoughts and wants clashed within her mind. Pink eyes were boiling hot and unbearable despite how many times Blossom tried to blink in order to soothe them.

Princess knew exactly what she was doing by orchestrating this weekend. She knew the perfect torture mechanism to break Blossom.

She was getting what she wanted, Blossom thought. For Blossom to feel defeated and humiliated while also taking Brick away from her.

It was the perfect scheme. And it was what Blossom rightfully deserved after cruelly making Princess fall under the belief Brick wanted a relationship with her in the effort to cover a secret that should not even exist.

Checkmate. Game over. Her white flag was being waved as she trudged around campus for the early birds to see.

"Blossom."

The redhead broke out of her troubled mind, becoming attuned to her surroundings. She would have groaned if Blossom was not so exhausted and depleted.

"Yeah, Robin?"

The brunette grinned smugly, pleased to see Blossom in a disheveled state. Her parents stood a few feet away, waiting patiently for their daughter to join them. Unknowing to them, she was not simply talking to a friend but was taking advantage of her damaging leverage she held against the orange-haired girl.

"Rough night?"

Blossom attempted to roll her eyes but it was too painful to move her eyes. "Can you please just tell me what you want?"

"Fine," Robin retorted, unhappy by Blossom's brashness. "If it's not too much, I would like for you to arrange for me to be able to intern at your mother's company this summer."

"You do realize they already chose the interns for the summer already?" Blossom responded wearily.

She pinched at the bridge of her nose, imagining the conversation she would have to have with her mother on such a topic. Favors were not a concept for her mother at all.

"Of course I do, but I'm sure it wouldn't be too much trouble for you to find me a spot," Robin replied promptly, arching her eyebrow. "I would hate to be proven wrong, Blossom."

Blossom let out a sigh, nodding lethargically. "Okay. I'll see what I can do."

"Great," Robin grinned. She turned on her heal, taking a few steps away before stopping to look over her shoulder back at Blossom. "Also, I expect for it to be a _paid_ internship. Anything else and… well, I think you are smart enough to figure out what comes next, right?"

Blossom did not need to respond. Instead she, regrettably, glared at the brunette to let her know the answer she could not communicate. She did not even let herself wallow in the sound of Robin's mocking laughter.

It was enough.

With her parents. With Princess' schemes. With Robin's blackmail. With the secret she had to keep safe.

It was all getting to be too much.

And now, with the pressure to end things with Brick, Blossom was sure it would be the last push for her to go over the edge. Where it led, she had no clue. Nor did she want to know but she was looming too close to it for her not to get a sneak peek at what the bottom held for her.

Darkness. That was all she could gather from the flashes she allowed herself to see. It would swallow and feast on her in the matter of seconds if she allowed it to.

Blossom was close to allowing such to happen.

She did not want to break up with Brick. Despite all of the challenges and obstacles, the right and wrong of their relationship, Brick made Blossom happy. He was one of the first decisions she made without obeying what she was taught growing up.

Blossom did not need him but he was what she wanted. And now her mother was trying to pry him out of her grasp without any concern to how it would make her feel.

When was it going to end?

When was she ever going to be able to stand up for herself?

Blossom knew she has grown in the past few months. She could feel it in how she talked to herself. How she spoke to others. The way she did not care about how she may appear anymore.

She was not ignorant to the damage she has done to those around her and to herself. Blossom knew she was not a victim and all she could do was attempt to fix what she could. That karma was simply catching up to her in one huge swing.

Yet, Blossom wanted her voice back. Her right to say what was on her mind but without being harmful to those on the other side. In her growth, Blossom was realizing how much she subdued her opinion in the need to seem nice. To be a better person.

But it has left her to be bit of a doormat lately. A simmered down version of herself that was being taken as weak by others now. Robin was able to back her into a corner. It spoke volumes to Blossom on how she has yet to even think of ways to solve her blackmail problem. She could have said something to Him about Princess' plan but she simply sat idly by, feeding off of the terror with each passing day. Blossom might as well admit to herself on how she has been punishing herself more than the others doing such to her.

There could be an end if she did not stop herself from daring to look at it.

Blossom thought back to what Brick said to her parents. How he was able to speak his truth without any concerns. A sweep of bitterness filled her chest. It should have not been him who called her parents out. She should have been the first one to say such words to them.

She did not need Brick to fight her battles—even if Blossom appreciated the act of him standing up for her. Blossom should be the one on the front lines of her battles. Especially ones that have lasted her entire life so far.

Blossom wanted an end. For the last page to this never-ending, miserable chapter of her life.

She needed to find her voice again. To blend the good of the old and new versions of herself. To figure out a way to be strong yet apologetic. Vocal but also nice. To become the best of herself without any fears or concerns.

* * *

The Academy's gymnasium was transformed once again for an event. Tall, round tables were spread around the room with parents and their children chatting at them respectively. A stage was put together for the night, in which was occupied by a local cover band. At the moment, one of the singers was keeping up a light mood by singing a flirty _Shawn Mendes_ song. A buffet was set up along the edges of where the bleachers were usually opened up to be.

There was a certain hum to it all. With some dancing or enjoying the catering provided. The various lively conversations and laughter was shared throughout the space. It was a nice dip from reality. From the upcoming classwork and exams—and for some, the venture into preparing for college.

A well needed reset before the sprint to finish out the marathon of the school year.

A marathon, in which, Bubbles has felt she has been limping towards the end of.

The blonde was in the category of the few who were eager for this weekend to past and be long forgotten. While being around Boomer's mom was as lovely as it could be, being in the gym with the families who decided to show up for their child, did not help her heavy heart. Nor her envy of them.

She did not want to be jealous or to wish for the happiness among her classmates to disappear. That would not be like her. Bubbles simply wished she was not propped into the position she was born into.

"Olivia, why the long face?" Kala inquired with concern. Her dark eyebrows were knitted together as she tried to understand Bubbles' upset demeanor.

Bubbles, who was reserving one of the tables for Boomer and his mom while they went to the buffet, widened her eyes. She was not aware of her emotions being translated to her face.

"Oh, I, um…" she stumbled, trying to find a good enough excuse. Her vision went to the plate of food Kala brought back to the table—macaroni and cheese with some barbecue pulled pork—and then to the chocolate brown eyes of her boyfriend's mom. "Just zoning out."

Kala frowned at her answer. "Honey, I've known you for about three years now. I know that is not your resting face." She reached out, gently laying her hand on Bubbles' forearm. "If there's something upsetting you, please know that I am open to listening."

A blonde eyebrow arched upward hesitatingly. "Kala, you don't have to—"

"No, no." She shook her head full of thick, dark hair. "You're like a daughter to me now, Olivia. As much as I wanted to see my son, I also was looking forward to seeing you. You're family to me now, baby. So whatever is upsetting you, please feel welcome to dump it on me."

Bubbles blinked at Kala. Her blue eyes were growing a little too misty.

 _She was family_.

In her chest, Bubbles felt a knot she did not even know was there, loosen. It was like taking in a fresh breath after swimming up for air.

Kala's words made her realize how ridiculous she was being. Why was she making herself miserable over someone who did not want her when there was plenty of others who did? She did not need blood to make a family, Bubbles realized.

All she needed were people who would love her unconditional and vice versa.

The blonde could not suppress the appreciative smile from taking shape on her lips. Nor could she help from throwing herself into Kala's arms, hugging the woman tightly until they were both left a bit breathless.

"Olivia—"

"Thank you," she murmured in her ear. "Thank you so much."

Kala did not say anything. Instead, she smiled softly into Bubbles' curls and returning the hug with the same amount of affection.

* * *

Since coming to the parents get-together, Blossom had not spoken a word to her parents. She took in their complaints—which her mother had plenty of—comments, and other words exchanged with a straight face. The redhead could not find it in herself to attempt nor want to participate in anything involving them.

She was simply waiting for the night to be over with and for her parents to be on the next flight out of California.

Unfortunately for her, Blossom did have to engage in at least one conversation with her mother for the night. One in which involved blackmail and an unearned internship.

She glanced down at her phone, sighing as she read a text message from a certain brunette who was watching her with an eagle eye from across the room. Robin was getting a bit impatient, Blossom must say.

The redhead tapped on her keyboard, alerting Robin to come in order to introduce herself.

It took the blue-eyed girl less than a minute to excuse herself from her parents—and Mitch's, if Blossom remembered correctly—and hurried over to where Blossom was.

Robin smoothed her hair, standing idly by while waiting for Blossom to initiate the introduction. Blossom, for a moment, had cast a pitiful look at the brunette. She wanted to warn Robin on how it was not worth it. That her mother was not going to reconsider and enlist her as an intern just because Blossom asked. Nor should Robin even want to work under a nasty woman like her mother. Interns had a hard enough job but Blossom could not even imagine how cruel her mother must be to the ones she hired.

If Robin was not blackmailing her into submission, Blossom would have said something by now.

The redhead cleared her throat, catching her mother's attention. She flickered her eyes from her mother and then to Robin. "So mom, this is my friend Robin Snyder."

Robin, overeager to please, stuck her hand out at Esmée before Blossom even finished her sentence. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Blanchette."

Esmée stared at Robin's hand with strong aversion. Her mahogany eyes went to Blossom, speaking in French with a certain bite to her words, "What is this, Rosemarie?"

Blossom watched as Robin's demeanor was chipped at. The insecurities she must have at the moment were influencing her. She retreated her hand, using it to wipe her sweaty palms on the fabric of her skirt.

"Will you give us a minute?" Blossom asked rhetorically as she turned her back away from Robin to bring her mother into a hushed conversation. Her eyebrows were folded together, annoyed with how her mother could not be decent for one moment.

"Why…" the redhead took in a deep breath, building up the courage to stand up to her mother. To dig deep and find the voice she kept hidden away. Her tone came out weaker and bit more squeaker than she would have liked, but nonetheless. "Why are you so rude?"

A blonde eyebrow shot up, unfazed by Blossom's question. "Why do you feel the authority to waste my time with your little friends?"

Blossom took the blow from her mother. Her chest feeling a bit winded but she went on. "Well I could ask why," the redhead hesitated for a moment, swallowing a lump the size of a marble in her throat. "Why are wasting your time being here?"

Her mother's face became tight. The lines by her mouth were displayed prominently. "Excuse me?"

"You–You don't like me, mom," Blossom admitted in a shaky breath. Her pink eyes were a chasm of fear. "Why bother coming to see me when you seem as if you despise me?"

Esmée let out a laugh wryly, shaking her head. "A temper tantrum? _Really, Rosemarie_?"

The redhead's eyebrows furrowed. "I'm not—I'm not throwing a tantrum? I'm—"

"Is this because of that boy? You're punishing me because of him?" Her mother pressed, staring down at her with an inferior gleam. "Stop being selfish for once in your life, Rosemarie." Her lip moved in disgust. "I swear your father has spoiled you way too much for your own good."

Blossom held down her tongue. She pushed away the want to rant and rave about all of the things she could accuse her mother of doing in the past. From the want to spill every secret they kept guarded. No matter if Blossom became red in the face or if her cheeks became sticky from her tears, the redhead was not going to react like her mother wanted her to.

To have the temper tantrum her mother was suggesting Blossom was having at the moment.

Blossom kept her composure. She was not going to fall victim to her mother's effortless button pushing.

She cleared her throat and kept her face as neutral as Blossom could portray. "Why… Why did you come here?" She attempted one more time.

Blossom needed to hear it out loud. She needed to hear the lack of love her parents held for her. To finally convince herself on the wasted effort they were.

Esmée seemed a bit confused by Blossom's question. It was not the response she was expecting to be greeted with. She let out a hot breath, rolling her eyes with great annoyance towards her daughter.

"We were in the state for business and I wanted us to keep up appearances for the Morbucks' family," her mother revealed. While she was expecting it, Blossom did feel a small part of her heart shatter from the truth. "Your father was also adamant on us coming too, for reasons I do not care to hear."

Blossom's ears perked up for moment. Her father wanted to come? Since when did he care about seeing her?

"Does that fix your attitude, Rosemarie?"

Pink eyes narrowed at her mother. She saw her mother for what she was. A nasty woman with no reason to be such but was also irredeemable.

"You're going to talk to Robin," Blossom said firmly. Although she did still speak in a low tone as she was too scary to raise her voice at her mother. "She wants to discuss interning at your company over the summer and–" the redhead swallowed her dry throat. She could not believe she was about to tell such a large fib to her mother. "And her parents are quite wealthy investors in the agricultural business. Getting on their good side could be beneficial to acquiring deals with certain producers, don't you agree?"

Blossom watched as her mother's eyes light up at the thought of a business opportunity.

"Why would you be so thoughtless to not mention that to me?" Esmée inquired. Her hands went to ruffle her flat hair, adding a little more volume to become presentable in her terms. She did not even wait for Blossom to answer as she rushed over to re-introduce herself to Robin.

The redhead took a minute to take in deep and sounded breaths. Her vision grew weak from the sight of her mother being unfazed by their little chat.

Blossom had used her voice. She knew her mother did not love her. So why did she feel a storm thrashing in her chest, wishing and wanting to flood her parents in the truth of how much they have hurt her?

Why was she not satisfied?

* * *

Brick knew he should go inside the gym already. Despite not hearing from Blossom the entire morning, she probably would like his company at the moment. Yet, here he was outside by himself. Hiding from the very idea of having to communicate with his mom.

Well, Brick would not admit he was hiding. He never hid from anything, he convinced himself to believe. Brick simply found himself agreeing with the logical of how another argument with his mom was not on his top ten interests for the evening. Therefore, he was justified in staying out of the gym and not having to interact with anyone.

Yeah, that was what he was doing.

So while he remained out of the trenches of conflict that seemed to consume the weekend, Brick sat on the concrete by the gym's back entrance. His legs were arched up, with his arms laying on top of his respective knees while his crimson eyes focused on the amber sunset in the distance.

It has been a long time since he felt truly alone. His head has been full of thoughts of Blossom or strong opinions about Butch and Buttercup. Lies he told Boomer or his classmates' expectations or Bubbles' concerns for him. The truth of his dad or Esmée and Patrice's disapproval or, now, his mom's influence. They were all invading his mind and taking over, preventing Brick from viewing himself for _himself_.

Sometimes he wished it would stop. All the voices and thoughts he had. Brick wanted to do away with them. To let in the unfamiliar feeling of nothingness consume him. It was better than what he did not want to feel. It was a temporary but appealing solution he wanted to grasp.

Then there would be no problems. No worries or doubts for him. It would just be him and the empty void he could float in...

At this point, Brick questioned if his problems were really his' to have? He was not sure anymore. Everything was blurring and smudged whenever he tried to look at it. It was better when he did not think of it, anyways. Less complicated for him. No need to feel what he did not understand and become manic from it.

He was caught in a web spun by everyone else but Brick did not want to fight it. The redhead would rather stay put. Eventually, he would be freed. Until then, he had nothing to deal with. The problems he questioned. The repressed emotions or feelings he did not allow himself to even view were real. The words or thoughts he has failed to let escape from his burning lungs. They were all left to decay in his determination to make them be without.

In his subconscious effort of diving himself into a pool of ignorance. Brick was not ready to admit or see such to himself yet. And maybe, he was never going to be…

So instead, Brick leaned his head back into the foundation of the building behind him. Absorbing the gradient of golden yellows and bronzed oranges until he no longer wanted to be alone. His mind was not even focus enough to notice the door next to him open.

"There you are."

Brick closed his eyes tightly, letting an exhausted breath escape his lips. He then opened his eyes again, regrettably finding his mother standing over him with her hands on her hips.

"Is there something you need?" He questioned, not even trying to hide the annoyance in his tired voice. Brick made a mental note to apologize to Blossom for not keeping up his promise to her.

Catherine frowned at her son, "I would like to know why you're not inside with everyone else right now."

Brick rubbed at his temple, wishing his mom would go away. A thought, in which, even caught him off guard. But he did feel every ounce of it.

"Are you avoiding that girlfriend of your's?" Catherine questioned after Brick failed to answer her. Her amber eyes portrayed a clarity to her maternal concerns; but to Brick, he failed to grasp a hold onto the true intent as she continued. "Because if I'm being honest with you, Brick, I don't think she's worth it. She's too pretentious and cold." Brick snorted at his mother's assumption, shaking his head in disbelief. "And don't even get me started on her parents and how weird that entire dinner was last night," Catherine listed.

"Are you done?" Brick inquired after a moment passed between them.

Catherine blinked at him. Her mouth was left open a little, trying to figure out a response for him. "I—I guess, I am," she said softly. "I just… I just don't want you to get hurt, Brick. That's all."

Crimson eyes rolled harshly in Brick's skull. He stood up from the ground, wiping at the back of his pants before shoving them into the pockets of his jeans. His height towered over his mother by half a foot.

He tossed out the notion of not wanting to feel anything. In the moment, his mom brought out the want to project all of his buried away frustrations. To fuel the fire he has been neglecting for some time. And his mom was the person he chose to be the one to fight off the flames.

"Okay, cool. You don't like Blossom," Brick shrugged nonchalantly. His tone was cold but his stare was even more frigid. "I don't give a fuck. You know why? Because you don't know shit. _She's too pretentious and cold_?" He echoed. "If you paid any attention to what I said last night instead of trying to find the slightest thing wrong with her, then you would have put together that her parents are awful to her. So that's what was so weird about last night. I was calling them out for what they have done to her for years."

"But no, let's talk about what you think is best for me, mom. Because that seems to be your only interest lately," Brick continued, his words dripping in venom. The ice in his stare had been melted and replaced by a firestorm of aggravation. His repressed feelings were climbing out of his throat and burning his mom in the process. His mind was blank from anything other than how much he wanted to hurt his mom just as much as she had hurt him. "I gotta do what you want, right? I can't make decisions for myself now? Because I don't know what to do with my life, huh?"

Catherine opened her mouth, trying to add her input, "That's not what I meant—"

"Bullshit," Brick injected, his voice raised as he was seething from her attempt to rebuttal. His finger was pointed at her in an accusing manner. "I know what you're doing, mom! I know you're pissed that I left and now you have no one. That's why you want me back home. That's why you don't want me going to Stanford. That's why you feel threatened by Blossom. It's why you wouldn't let me have what I want because it's not what you want."

Catherine did not say anything. In fact, she was frozen. Her vision was blurred as she was thrown back in time. Memories she had tried to keep stored away were pulled out and flashed vividly throughout her mind.

The way Brick raised his voice, it brought her back to a place Catherine did not want to visit.

Her hands moved along her arms, pressing into her skin in search of bruises that have not existed for a long time. Her feet shuffled a few small steps away from Brick.

Brick waited for her to respond but once he realized she was not going to, he left without a word. There was nothing left he needed to say. So why stay for no reason?

He entered the gym, finding himself uninterested in his classmates and their parents. In the midst of his expression of heated emotions, Brick searched for Blossom. His crimson eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on her strawberry blonde hair.

Brick swaggered over to his girlfriend who stood by her parents with a joyless expression. His thoughts were provoked by a few ideas.

If he was able to step up against his mom, then Blossom could do the same. All she needed was a push and he was about to provide her with one. While he needed to blow off some steam from his boiling temper. To pull himself back to the ground before Brick exploded anymore.

He tapped on her shoulder, catching her off guard. She opened her mouth to say something to him, but Brick had cupped her face, pulling her into a deep, fervent kiss.

Blossom was still under his hold. Her hands were frozen on his chest, debating on whether or not to push him away—her parents were only a step or two away from them!

But she did not.

Instead, Blossom melted into his arms, kissing back with the same energy he held. The affection from him was what she needed. To feel loved. To know someone was in her corner rooting for her. The last piece she needed to fully attain her voice back.

His hand slid into her thick hair slowly as he brows furrowed. Blossom cupped his jaw. The tips of her nails dug into his skin lightly. Their chests grew heavy, begging for them to surface for air.

If they had to decide, neither of them would have broken away for air but they had to. Reluctantly, they pulled away an inch. A smile crept on Brick's face as he stared into Blossom's eyes.

"I believe in you," he declared. His voice a bit hoarse from their kiss.

Blossom nodded. Her finger pushed a strand of hair out of his face for a moment before she returned her hands back to her side. Brick took a few steps back, giving her the space she needed to make her peace with her parents.

She swallowed harshly, forcing herself to face the wrath that her parents surely would have from seeing her kiss Brick. From her obviously not carrying out the order of breaking up with him.

And she was not wrong.

Esmée was absolutely fuming when Blossom turned around. Her thin lips were held tightly. Mahogany eyes glared at her with absolute disgrace.

Patrice was red in the face, similar to the night before. His stare of disapproval, however, was found more towards Brick.

"Rosemarie. I thought it was made clear on what would happen if you stayed with this embarrassment to our family name," Esmée condemned.

"It was…" the redhead began hesitantly. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as Blossom gathered her thoughts. "But I've decided I don't care."

Esmée arched an eyebrow in a mocking manner as if she found Blossom's response to be comical. "Oh have you know?"

Blossom nodded her head once, "Yeah, I have." She tilted her head, peering into her mother's soul with a brand new set of eyes. "I don't want to live under your expectations anymore. I can't pretend to be perfect or exhaust myself to be what you believe that word is. I've made plenty of mistakes. I've sinned and I have done somethings I'm not proud of. _But that's all me_. The me that is real and not the person who has tried so damn hard to get you to simply acknowledge me. I've had enough of being that person who is scared of their parents. Of being the worst version of myself because of what you taught me. And—And you can't control me anymore," Blossom declared in a shaky breath, exhaling the deepest fears she had kept locked away within her. She then inhaled a new one full of courage and strength. " _You will not have control over me anymore_."

"And I do wish things could be different," she confessed with sorrow. "I wish what I did or who I was with or the choices I make didn't determine whether or not you would tolerate me for the week. But," her pink eyes grew warm. Her voice faltering into cracks. " _But you don't._ And—And I've come to terms with it." Blossom dabbed at her eyes. A broken smile expressed across her lips. "And I will be fine because I—I've finally learned to love myself. Flaws and all. And that's all I really needed."

Blossom flickered her eyes between her two parents. Her mother rolled her eyes at the redhead's words, not falling for what she believed was routine dramatics by her daughter. Her father was silent. His eyes expressing a want to say something but instead he remained muted.

And it was all Blossom needed. The adrenaline in her veins was beginning to fade. She was truly free now.

Free from suffocating and punishing herself with the thoughts of how there could be a chance for her parents to love her. The disappointment of the acknowledge sat in her chest, bearing down on her with a hefty weight. However, Blossom had faith it would lessen.

The pounds of it would shed over time, along with her grieving the relationship she would never have with her parents. She hoped and believed it would, and in the moment, that was what kept her together.

It was not over but it was the right place to end this chapter in her life.

Blossom glanced behind her, finding Brick with a proud smile on his lips. The corner of her mouth twitched upward as she went to him and reached out for his hand. Her pink eyes went towards the band, who were now covering a melodic _Khalid_ song.

"You want to dance?" She asked gently.

Brick's eyes softened. His fingers lacing with her delicate ones. "With you? _Anytime_."

* * *

Butch did not know what it was, but he could not stop from stuffing himself on the dinner rolls provided by the buffet. He must have made three trips venturing away from Buttercup's table already to get another plate full of the round pieces of bread. They were like little puffs of buttery heaven, in his opinion.

"Those extra carbs are going to bite you in the ass, you know that right?" Buttercup remarked, joining his side after fixing herself a new plate of food.

"Eh, I'll do more weight training this week to make up for it," he shrugged off on their way back to their table. His green eyes were fixated on a particular family on the way. "Hey, is that Stacey's mom over there?"

Buttercup arched an eyebrow, looking in the direction he spoke of. "Yeah…" she responded hesitantly.

"Well, _Stacey's mom definitely has it goin' on_ ," Butch quipped with a proud grin.

Buttercup blinked at him. "... How long have you been waiting to say that?"

The dark-haired male's shoulders slouched down. A sheepish expression reflected off of him. "Since we found out about parents weekend."

"God, you're such a dork," Buttercup teased along with a laugh.

"Yeah, but I'm the dork you choose to hang out with."

"Which is a decision I dearly regret everyday."

Butch rolled his eyes playfully, "I don't see you trying to get rid of me, B."

"Well that's because you wouldn't give me the chance to," she ribbed.

Butch leaned his side closer to her, angling his head to face her, "I would like to see you try," he said lowly.

Lime green eyes flashed over to him before seeking out asylum somewhere else. An electrifying feeling coursed through her body. A feeling in which terrified her greatly.

The more time she spent with Butch, the more Buttercup felt herself fall for him. It was hard not to ignore how easy it was to be around him ever since they worked out their issues. The chemistry was there, she had to admit. Too bad it was not worth anything to make of.

Butch did not see what she saw. And that was that.

"How do you know I haven't already been trying?" She questioned in the sake of continuing their banter. Her feelings funneled back into her and were bottled tightly.

Butch looked her over. A brief moment of panic washed over him. He knew she was only joking but Butch could not deny how the thought of their friendship going away was not a pleasant one for him.

He opened his mouth to tell her such but his green eyes were captivated by another sight in the foreground of her.

Blossom and Brick were dancing together. Laughing. Smiling. Moving as if they were the only ones in the entire gym.

Butch lost sight of what he was originally thinking. It was all replaced by emotions of missing Blossom. Of how he wanted to be the one dancing with her. To be the one to make her forget about everyone else around them.

His chest grew dense as his breathing slowed. It has been a couple of weeks since he allowed himself to become paralyzed by Blossom, but it was all the same. There was no escaping the ache and tug on the heartstrings Butch had believed were salvaged in the redhead's destruction of them.

His heartbreak, as Butch was realizing, was still too fresh. And seeing her continue to move on with no trouble at all, did not help.

Buttercup caught wind of his shift in mood, glancing over her shoulder to find the same image in which upset him. She let out a sigh, wishing she did not have more proof as to why her feelings for Butch were pointless.

"Hey," she said quietly. Her hand finding a home on his shoulder blade, breaking Butch out of the pitiful daze he was under. "You want to get out of here?"

"But what about your parents?" He inquired cautiously.

Buttercup shrugged off his question. An easy smile reflected off of her lips despite the tremendous amount of effort it took her to seem as if she was unbothered.

"I'm sure they're sick of us by now. So do you want to go or not?"

Butch darted his eyes over to Blossom and Brick again and then back to Buttercup. His face solemn as he nodded.

* * *

Butch and Buttercup found refuge by the agricultural building. Her parents did not mind them leaving early—in fact, they encouraged it, oddly enough. So Buttercup went to her dorm to get a blanket to sit on while Butch brought a _Bluetooth_ speaker with him. He may have also taken the entire bowl of dinner rolls from the buffet to help eat his feelings.

Luckily, Buttercup did not say anything about it other than a laugh or two.

Now they sat outside on the blanket Buttercup brought. The bowl of rolls was between them and the speaker played through one of Butch's playlists. A somber _Pearl Jam_ song carried out a background noise for the two.

They had not said much since leaving. It was more of what they were doing and where they wanted to go than talking about what upset Butch.

Buttercup could feel the question itching at her throat. She did not want to get involved in the roller-coaster of him and Blossom anymore but that did not change Buttercup's sense of care for him. He needed someone to vent to. Otherwise, Butch would keep everything bottled in until he exploded.

She was the one he trusted the most at the moment. Therefore, Buttercup had to focus on being the best type of friend she could be for him. Because personal feelings aside, Buttercup did not want to do Butch wrong.

"Do you want to talk about what made you upset?" Buttercup mentioned quietly.

Her arms hugged her knees as she studied the profile of his face. There was a hitch in her heart from her eyes tracing the slope of his nose. He was quite fascinating to look at, Buttercup thought, followed by the wish she did not think of such a thing.

He wiped the grease from the butter off of his hands on to the fabric of his track pants. His forest green eyes stared out to the dark campus ahead of them. His lips pursed for a moment as he tried to figure out how he wanted to answer her question.

"I don't get it…" Butch muttered. He turned to Buttercup, meeting her line of vision. His hand ran through his head of thick, wild hair. "I don't get how quickly she could move on. I know I sound like a broken record but… I feel like I never mattered to her, you know? I was just so fucking disposal to her."

Buttercup nodded, understanding where he was coming from. Even though her relationship with Mitch was not comparable to Butch's with Blossom in many senses, she found his words to be relatable. Mitch moved onto Robin without any regrets or guilt for doing so. He did not care about how Buttercup would find out or how she would react. He simply did not care about her feelings.

She should have expected such behavior from someone like Mitch but it still did hurt her. For her first relationship to be a simple trial run for Mitch's current one.

The fact Buttercup was able to finally admit such feelings to herself, shocked her. She getting more acquianted with being vulnerable than she originally thought.

"I get it. I felt that way with Mitch..." she faltered. Her arms squeezed at her knees, "It hurts to see them so happy with someone else. When they publicly display their new relationship so joyfully and quickly…" Buttercup let out a tight breath she did not know she was even holding. Her voice grew rough as she continued. "It–It makes you realize that they never truly loved you. That they were just wasting their time with you until someone better came along. Someone more worthy of their love…"

Butch found himself nodding along to her statement. Somewhere, it struck a chord in him. The rosy haze he used to have on his relationship was nearly all gone and Butch was coming to the realization Blossom never truly gave a shit about him.

That she probably never loved him. And what he felt for her all this time was a waste. How she played and strung him along like a fool.

He did not want to believe it. Butch wanted to see the best in the girl he was in love with still, but reality was getting too real for him to not see the dots connecting over and over again.

Butch matched Buttercup's body language, hugging his knees and laying his chin on his forearm. He tilted his head towards her, "I don't think I want to talk anymore. Is that okay?"

She nodded at him.

"It's more than okay."

* * *

"So you promise to visit during the first week of July?" Kala questioned during her parting with Boomer and Bubbles. The buses that originally brought her to the Academy filled the school's faculty parking lot once more.

Bubbles nodded eagerly, unable to suppress the bright smile she held. "Of course. I'm already looking forward to it."

"I'm assuming I'm a part of these plans, right?" Boomer quipped, draping his arm over Bubbles' shoulders. The blond was explicitly pleased to see Bubbles in a better place, but also to see her striking a better bond with his mom.

Kala rolled her eyes playfully at her son, chuckling at his comment. "If it makes you feel better, my love. Then yes, you can."

While Bubbles and Kala laughed harmlessly at Boomer's expense, the blonde could not help but notice how she felt anew. There was no more envy. No dark cloud cultivating over her head. She did not need distractions to keep her spirits high anymore. Her heart was together again, mended by the unconditional love brought to her by Boomer and his mom.

From the family she did not know was there.

They were not what she originally believed what she wanted, but they were what she needed. And from that, Bubbles was full of love for them and herself.

There were no more lingering feelings or regret towards her father. If anything, the experience made her appreciate Kala more. To have witnessed firsthand on how family could be chosen instead of a birthright.

It made her excited for the day she officially was a member of Boomer's family, but that was a day for the future. Until then, Bubbles was going to savoir every moment she could get with those who loved her and who she loved.

* * *

Blossom was not planning on attending the parent send-off. After the night before, she was sure the message was clear: neither her or her parents wanted anything to do with each other. Therefore, there were no reasons for her to come.

That was until she spoke to Brick after waking up.

She had rushed out of her bed, hoping the buses had not left yet. Her pink eyes scanned the crowd in a rushed manner. The buses did not leave for another twenty minutes but the crowd in the parking lot was more dense than Blossom would have liked.

The redhead ventured through her classmates and their parents. Dodging and maneuvering to avoid getting in their way or invading a personal moment between a family.

Her face lit up when she finally found the person she was looking for. She hurried her steps, tapping on the shoulder of the dirty blonde turned away from her.

"Catherine," Blossom began, gaining the woman's attention. Her amber eyes did not seem excited to see Blossom nor understand why she was speaking to her. "I just wanted to say goodbye on Brick's behalf. He, um…" the redhead cleared her throat, feeling out of place speaking for Brick. "He—"

"Didn't feel like showing up?" Catherine finished. Her hand formed a white-knuckle grip on the strap of her purse. The humiliation she felt was easily read, gaining nothing but sympathy from Blossom. "Yeah. I sort of figured after waiting for the past forty minutes."

Blossom could not hide the disappointment she held towards her boyfriend for not even bothering to tell his mom about his intentions for the morning. He had explained their fight to her after the parents get-together and engaging in some activities her parents surely would have frowned upon. How he went off on his mom after finding out Catherine was not a fan of Blossom. The redhead was not surprised to hear about Catherine's opinion, however. With the single interaction they had, Blossom could see how she came off cold or a bit snobbish. Therefore, she did not blame Catherine for sharing her thoughts to Brick.

Blossom also did take notice to how Brick neglected to inform her on what his mom's reaction to his outburst was. Which made Blossom believe he did not feel the need to tell her such details or he did not let his mom speak her version of the events. And given the sharp tongue Brick had been flexing for the weekend, Blossom had a feeling it was the latter in which happened.

She still felt there was a lot left unsaid between the mother and son. Things they could have worked out if he simply showed up this morning and swallowed his pride for the moment to hear his mom's side.

"I'm sorry," Blossom murmured. "I tried to convince him but Brick can be stubborn at times."

Catherine let out a small laugh. "Oh, I know. He's such a pain in the ass sometimes but do I love that boy so much."

The redhead smiled faintly before letting it falter. "I am sorry for how the weekend turned out. I… I was dealing with a lot and I don't think I really got a chance to get to know you. From what Brick has told me, you're one incredible woman–"

"I sure do wish he still believed that," Catherine muttered under her breath, hanging her head a little. Her soul was disjointed from holding onto the belief Brick wanted nothing to do with her.

"I think he'll come around," Blossom assured gently. "He may be mad now but Brick loves you."

"And I love him," she said quietly. Catherine, for the first time, softened her expression towards Blossom. Her body loosening from the tension she felt. She reached out, placing a free hand on Blossom's shoulder. "Thank you for doing this. I think I may have misjudged you. And maybe I wanted to find something wrong with you," Catherine admitted with a bit of shame.

"It's always just been me and Brick. Not having him around for the past seven months has not been the easiest thing for me. Especially when he has been _so_ distant lately. And I guess my mom insincts got the better of me and I got a bit territorial and protective of him upon meeting you. Which I was wrong to do and I'm sorry for it. I can tell my son does care deeply about you." She let out a heavy breath. A small smile graced her lips. "And because of that, perhaps next time we could actually get to know each other better?"

Blossom felt a swell in her chest full of delight. "I would love that," she beamed.

* * *

On the other side of the parking lot, the Soto family—plus Butch—were also saying their goodbyes.

Butch was in the middle of thanking Mai for including him for the weekend and telling her how much he enjoyed getting to know her and Jim better. A few feet away, Buttercup was hugging her dad, for what would be the last time until her graduation in a few months.

"Thank you for coming," she said to him as they pulled away.

"Like I would pass up the chance to see my daughter," Jim scoffed. "I would do anything for you, Buttercup."

The green-eyed girl smiled happily at her father, feeling a warmth coming to her cheeks. "I know. And that's why you're such a great dad."

Jim nodded, "Yes, I know." His eyes lit up from his daughter's laughter, smiling in appreciation of moments like these he was able to share with her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, catching her attention. His head moved in the direction next to them—to Butch and Mai. "Which is why I do wish you didn't feel the need to lie to me and your mother about your friend there."

Buttercup furrowed her eyebrows. The heat in her cheeks spread throughout her body, becoming uncomfortable and prickly. "What? What are you—I don't—What?" She croaked out.

"Butch and you, are together? Am I wrong?" Jim inquired. His face reflected his utter confusion towards her reaction.

Buttercup shook her head furiously. "No, we're not. We're just friends," she assured even though Buttercup knew the last statement was not exactly the whole truth.

"Huh." Jim scratched his head in thought. "Your mother and I swore—"

"Well you were wrong," Buttercup interrupted, hoping to end the conversation already before Butch caught wind of it.

There was nothing more embarrassing to her at the moment than for Butch to hear her dad's assumption. Especially after last night.

"Am I though?" Her dad pressed. His dark eyes studied his daughter carefully. "I don't think I was mistaken to believe something more is happening between you and Butch. Or may I say, for him at least, there is something."

Buttercup blinked at her dad. Did he just say Butch felt something for her?

First Blossom, and now her dad believed Butch held a flame for her without realizing it. The dark-haired girl felt there must be a cruel trick being played on her.

There was no way. Not with what she knew about Butch. Not when he was sulking over Blossom not even a day ago.

She opened her mouth, but was still left speechless. What _exactly_ did her dad see to make such a conclusion?

* * *

"Rosemarie!"

Blossom perked up at the sound of her real name. No one other than a certain amount of teachers called her that.

Except for…

She hesitantly glanced over her shoulder, finding her father standing by—what she could only assume—a rental car. He made his way over to her while Blossom contemplated on whether or not she should ignore him and continue her way back onto campus.

But she stayed.

For whatever reason, Blossom was peaked by her curiosity as to what her father wanted. It was not an ordinary occurrence for him to seek her out. Actually, he has never even gone out of his way for her before. So that had to mean something right?

It was enough to justify her feet staying planted into the ground, becoming face-to-face with her father.

"Rosemarie, please allow me a few minutes of your time," her father began. His hand went to wipe away a few drops of sweat from his forehead

Blossom shrugged at him mentality but kept a stoic expression. "Okay."

Patrice cleared his throat. He appeared a bit surprised she was allowing him to speak but he was going to take advantage of it.

"What you said last night… I cannot find any faults in it," he admitted shamefully. "I've never been a great father to you. For the longest time, I didn't care, but as I grow older—as I watch you mature from the sidelines as a speculator instead of a coach like I should have been—I've grown saddened by our relationship. And I—I've never been sure what to do about us. Whether you wanted to be alone or whether you needed me. I became neglectful and enabled your mother's unwarranted behavior."

"Your mother and I, we have never expressed our emotions or love for another when you were growing up and I'm sure that was not the best environment for you. We never nurtured you. And your mother pushed you so hard at times that she convinced me it was the best for you. But I suppose we were wrong," Patrice explained sorrowfully.

"I have failed you as a father. I should have known how you felt. I shouldn't have neglected you for all this time. I should have spoken up much sooner. To you and to your mother. And–And I am sorry. I am truly sorry for not being the father you deserved."

Blossom chewed down on her lip, holding back from the warmth gathering in her eyes. His apology was well needed. It did not change what has happened. She did not forgive him for all the pain he has caused or allowed her mother to inflict.

But it was something.

It was a starting point. A crumb of acknowledge that there was a chance at saving the relationship she may have with at least one of her parents.

Blossom could not stop herself from throwing her arms around her father, hugging him for the first time. His arms wrapped around her, squeezing her tightly.

"I want to be there for you. _I am going to be there for you now_. Because I do love you, Rosemarie," he whispered in her ear. "Please know that. "

Blossom felt her heart drop. Her eyes grew glassy from his admission of love. It was the single time she has ever heard him say such a thing. Tears welled up in her eyes, making a free fall down her cheeks.

"Thank you," Blossom sniffled.

She savored the moment with her father. A small hum was captured in her chest, relieving some of the hurt that she has held throughout her life. All was not forgotten but Blossom was ready for what the future was to bring her.

She had found her voice again. Blossom was able to speak her truth to her mother. And the door was left open for her to salvage the relationship between her father and her.

From that, the weekend was not much of the nightmare that Blossom originally thought it would be.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **I honestly should have titled this chapter _The one where Brick yells at everyone._**

 **I do hope this chapter was worth the wait. I can say that it is one of my recent favorites, even though I'm still iffy on whether or not I like this story anymore. Fun fact though, the scene where Buttercup and Butch are sitting alone outside at night was actually the _first_ ever scene I thought of for this story. It's crazy how that one little scene has sprawled out into all of this. **

**With that said, Act 2 is going to be finished in the next chapter, which will also be the beginning of the group's spring break. Be prepared for enough dramatics to match that of a cliche _The CW_ show.**

 **To those who reviewed last chapter:**

 ** _Anahearts_ : I don't think I can truly express how much your review meant to me. It came at a time where I was getting pretty down on myself with self-doubt. Not to be pitiful or a sap, but I was seriously questioning my abilities to write and whether or not people cared if I updated at all. I legit teared up a little when I read your review. To know I helped you during a time when you needed a distraction meant a lot. I do hope things are better for you now and things worked out. Thank you so much for lifting me up when I needed it and for being there since the beginning. I always appreciate and value your thoughts about the stories I write. **

**_Erren. reese519_ : Thank you for your review. The karma is in the works, that's for sure. It's just not one that will be isolated to one period of time though. Take that as you may...**

 ** _RandomMonkey_ : I'm certainly glad I have made you laugh out loud at some points. I'm never sure if my sense of humor is translated enough in my writing, what with it either being melodramatic or full of angst (In real life, I literally laugh at everything. It such a contrast, honestly). So that was an incredibly nice thing to hear. Thank you for your kind words too! And it appears you were onto something with Buttercup's parents. Now if only Butch would stop being oblivious and start realizing what's going on...**

 **Nishin. ko: Thank you!**

 ** _Guest_ : Thank you so much for your kind words! My goal with my stories is to always do something that I haven't seen done before, so it's lovely to hear how you've noticed and like it.**

 **Until next time, thank you for reading and please review!**


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